Choices
by FashionFryer
Summary: What do they want? Do they want anything? How far will Peter have to go to make them safe again? Don't own the show. Contains mild torture in early chapters followed by the aftermath.
1. Chapter 1

**HI! A new one, its currently half finished! Let me know what you all think... reviews!**

Chapter 1

"Stop giving me choices.

I can fake it,

I can fake it 'til it hurts."

-The Hoosiers

oOo

The three of them stood there. They were cold and shivering. El was in between Neal and her husband. The men across from them had told them to stand apart, but all she wanted was for Peter to hold her. He had a black eye and blood coming from his nose, Neal with a split lip and dark bruise along his jaw. She was scared.

The room was large, underneath a house that is in the middle of no where. No witnesses, no-body to hear anything. There were four guys, standing looking at them. One looking her up and down, it was making her uncomfortable. Peter was looking around the place, not noticing this, but Neal had. He edged closer to her, standing slightly in front. His movement made all four guys focus on him and step closer. Peter looked over, ready to fight if need be.

He didn't need to, they didn't come any closer. Someone walked in through the door to the right, nodding to the guy closest to him. He dragged over three chairs, two facing each other, and one in the middle facing the other way, so it was at a right angle to the others. The other three guys walked over, each grabbing a captive. Peter began to struggle, Neal following, but a gun to El's head soon stopped them both.

Peter was thrown and held into the chair furthest from the door, giving him the door as a view. It was altered when El was restrained to the chair opposite. She was scared, eyes wide and tear wet cheeks. Neal was last, being tied – tightly by rope – to the chair in the middle. He was looking straight ahead, so Peter and El could only see one side of him each. He turned his head to the left, seeing Peter. He was looking past him to his wife before eyes settling on the man in between them.

They were all at a crime scene, it had been El's gallery job and it had been robbed. They were all walking her to her car when they were grabbed from behind. They used El to get Peter to hand over the anklet key before shoving them in a van, after a struggle. Then they were here.

The two guys holding Peter let go, but he didn't move. The new arrival was behind his wife with his gun trained on her. Neal was watching him too. The guy looked at Peter, smiling, knowing he had him.

"Right, Agent Burke, White Collar division. I am so happy you could join us. And you brought guests, Mrs Burke," he bends down to talk close to her ear, "I am really, very happy that you could join us," standing up right to speak again to the room, "and Mr Caffery, I've heard a lot about you."

Neal looked up at him as he walked near, standing behind him, grabbing each shoulder with his hands. Neal flinched slightly and shut his eyes. Peter edged forward in his seat, only just. His eyes went to El, she was staring at him, trying to block out what was happening.

"Yes, I've heard a lot about you," he was rubbing his hands into Neal's shoulders, up to the base of his skull and back along to the shoulder blades, "you have always been high on my radar. It was just chance she was with you Agent, but he was always going to be here, hope that makes you feel better."

He was looking at Peter. Smirk on his face. Hands resting on Neal, thumb stroking his hair. Peter saw his friend stare ahead, the look on his face tense but resigned, he knew he would have to endure what ever was thrown at him. And Peter hated it.

The guy nodded to his associates and they abruptly left. He walked around the back of Peter to the front of Neal, leaning against a bare wooden table. Watching. Peter wanted to get up. He knew he could take him, but El and Neal were tied down, defenceless.

"Get up." The guy was looking at Neal, but talking to Peter. As the Agent stood, Neal quickly glanced at him. Peter saw the brief fear in his eyes, along with a cold determination. He slowly walked in front of the guy, back to his friend. Breathing heavy, he waited instruction, receiving a slow circular turn of a vertical finger. Complying, he turned to face his CI. The guy spoke up.

"Let's play a game before we get started. I mean all work and no play...I want to see who means the most to you Agent, her or him. I feel I know the answer, but I want to hear it. Then I will hurt that person if you don't do what I tell you to do to the other. Got it?"

Peter didn't know what to say. He looked wide eyed at the man sitting, bound in front of him. Glancing at El he saw her eyes were wet with tears, red and puffy. He loved her so much. Hated the situation he was in.

"It's ok." Neal's calm and steady monotone snapped Peter's attention back to him. He was sitting, resigned, giving permission. Peter nodded. He hated it.

"Right, so I guess you all have reached a decision. Surprising he had a say, criminal input being heard and all." He was trying to get a reaction out of Peter, but looking at Neal, he knew he don't let the guy win. Not like this.

"Right, first thing's first... take off his clothes." Peter's head snapped round in confusion, brow down. He wasn't sure what the guy was going to say, but this wasn't it. The guy just smiled at him, nodding slightly, so he turned back to Neal. His face was one of confusion too, before he noticed Peter looking at him, then he locked their eyes and nodded once, knowing El would be the target.

Peter stepped forward, hands reaching out to the knot of Neal's tie, as Neal lifted his chin to give access.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi. Next chapter. Hope yous like it! Review and let me know. We're starting to get a wee bit violent – warning! I don't own the show… sad times!**

Chapter 2

Once the tie was off, the guy told Peter to put it on the table behind him. By this time, the guy was standing close behind El. Turning back, Peter began to unbutton the shirt, hands shaking, eyes snapping up to meet Neal's briefly before getting back to the task. The more buttons unfastened, the more skin exposed, showing the bruising forming. Peter had been so pre-occupied with protecting El at the gallery, he hadn't really noticed Neal.

The sleeves were stuck on his arms. "Cut them off the main body and scrunch them to the wrists." He had obviously read Peter's mind, leaning over El and handing a small, sharp knife. Slitting at the arm holes and removing the front from back, he moved the sleeves to lie around the bound wrists. "Now the trousers."

Peter looked at him, hating what he was having to do. His shaky hands started un-doing Neal's belt, both men silent. Taking it off was hard work and Neal had to help, it was laid next to the tie. Unbuttoning and unzipping the trousers made Peter's stomach turn. He was scared for what as coming next, but the guy had his gun at El's back, so he had to do it. And Neal knew.

Once shoes, socks and trousers were lying off to the side, Peter stood, Neal staring ahead. "Well done. You can stop there." As if Peter was going any further. He looked down to see Neal shivering slightly but trying to look unfazed. The guy was standing in front of El – back to her – when Peter looked back. His arms were crossed, gun still in the right hand, and was looking Neal up and down intently.

"Hit him." The words were said so simply that all three captives' half turned in confusion. But he was just staring at Peter. Serious and intense. "Hit. Him." He said it slow like he was talking to a child who didn't understand.

"No. I... I can't." Peter looked at his friend, sitting vulnerable and on display, knowing he couldn't hurt him. Neal was looking at him, his eyes urging him to do it, while fear lingered behind. And that fear was what stopped him. That was until he heard a grunt, head snapping up as the guy rapidly turned, back handing El across the face. Neal saw it too, both men shouting.

Peter took a step forward before a gun was pointed at his head. He vaguely heard Neal ask El if she was ok, her saying yes. The guy just smirked. "I told you to do what I said. Now hit him."

"Do it Peter, do it, it's ok, just do it."

The guy stepped back, gun doing to his side. Peter glanced at El, face red but smile on her face to tell him she was ok, then turned to Neal. He sat, breathing hard and not looking him in the eye. He stepped closer. "I'm sorry."

His fist hurt. Hearing it collide with Neal's cheek bone made him flinch. He had held back, wanting it to look the part but scared to do it. "Again, and harder this time. Or else I'll have show you how it's done, teach you as you will." Peter's eyes flicked to him, before resting again on Neal. He nodded his permission, so Peter did it again.

"No, no, no. You're doing it all wrong. Now I have to show you." The guy put his gun in his waist band, walking over next to Peter. "Right, watch very carefully." He raised his left arm, fist at the ready and slammed it into Neal's cheek. He did it with such force his head whipped round, almost snapping off his shoulders, a pained groan escaping his lips. Peter stepped forward involuntarily wanting to help, but knowing it would be no good. Instead he watched as Neal tried to bring the room back into focus, blinking his eyes, straightening back up. But the guy slammed his fist into his face again, in the same spot, the right eye, then again, and again.

"Did you see that? Strong and powerful. Showing authority. Being the one in charge. Try again." He stepped back, allowing Peter the room to be straight on from Neal.

Stepping back in place, he looked at the man in front of him. Cheek already discoloured, eyes unfocused and body slightly shaking. But the thing that he noticed the most was that his friend was scared of him, not looking up to his face, holding his head at an angle away from him. It made Peter feel cold.

"Do it." The two words cut the silence, confirming what Peter already knew; he had to do this. But Neal still didn't look at him.

Feeling the hard surface of bone against his knuckles, he felt sick. Hearing Neal yell out was even worse. The guy behind began to clap his hands, coming closer to grip his left bicep. It made him jump, eyes still trained on his friend, who still wouldn't look at him, eyes closed.

He let him self to led back to the chair he was in before, feeling his hands pulled to the back and rope encircling them. All he could do was watch his wife and friend. Neal with his head bowed. After he was secured to the chair, the guy walked towards the door, round the back of Neal, squeezing his shoulder as he passed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Number three, more violence I'm afraid… although I quite like it! Not a lot of reviews... please let me know what you think! Don't own the show... obvs!**

Chapter 3

Once he was gone, all three let out a sign, Neal's turning to a moan, shoulders slumping lower. Peter's concern went into overdrive.

"Neal? Hey. Talk to me, are you ok?" He knew it was a stupid question. But he had to ask it, make sure Neal was still awake.

"Hurts like hell, but I'll survive." He raised his head, staring straight ahead, opening his eyes. Peter heard El gasp, "Neal, look at me buddy."

As he turned his head, grimacing in pain, Peter felt as though time had stopped. His right eyeball was red, blood shot and looked painful. "Crap." He couldn't think of anything else to say. He looked at the eye, swelling and turning blue already. It disappeared as he turned his head back to face forward, breathing heavy.

"I'm so sorry. So sorry. I didn't want to, I wouldn't I promise, I..."

"It's ok. It's ok. Stop worrying about it." His voice was quiet and resigned. He wanted Peter to stop blaming him self, but the pounding in his head made it hard to concentrate. His right eye felt like it was on fire, burning and his vision fuzzy. But he wasn't going to tell them that, so he tried to smile.

"It's not ok... El how are you?"

"I'm fine honey, don't worry about me. What do you think they want?"

"I don't know. Whatever it is... they definitely mean business." He was leaning to the side to see his wife, eyes drifting back to Neal who was blinking rapidly and squinting. The left cheek bone that Peter had hit was red, and puffy. The more he looked at it the guiltier he felt, glad he couldn't see the other side.

oOo

Almost an hour had past before they heard the noisy foot steps coming down the corridor. All tensed, Neal looking to Peter, the fear returning. He was scared, and Peter didn't blame him. He was scared too.

The door opened and the guy entered, two guys behind him as he walked into the room, taking his place standing behind Neal, one person behind the others. He put his hand on Neal's right shoulder, stepping around the side, and kneeling down next to him, back to El but giving Peter a full view. He took out the knife, putting the tip on Neal's bruised rib cage. It made Peter tense.

"Now. So far I have been nice. You do look like you're in pain, but I have something," he pulled out a syringe with a clear liquid in it, "I will give you this, it could stop the pain. But it is entirely Agent Burke's call. I give you this, she is let go," he looks up at Peter, smile on his face.

"Fine." Neal sounded so determined and unfazed that for a second Peter considered it.

"Don't you dare. I am fine where I am." El sounded strong and horrified that this was even a possibility.

"She's right. No deal." Neal looked at Peter, the look of surprise that he was standing up for him hurt Peter a little. Truth was, Peter knew he could never agree to it. Letting this psycho pump a unknown drug in to his friend right in front of him was a line he could not cross.

"Ok, your decision." He slowly began to press the knife into the soft flesh. Slow enough that Peter didn't notice at first, until Neal grimaced in pain and blood started to run down his torso.

"Hey, stop that! Look, he – and my wife for that matter – have nothing to do with FBI business. If you want information ask me, but leave them out of this." He knew it was a long shot, but when the guy stood up he thought he had got through. Instead the guy nodded to Neal and the two others walked forward, cutting his rope ties – showing the angry restraint marks and letting the frayed sleeves fall to the ground – and lifting him up.

He tried to struggle, but it hurt more, causing more cries to be heard. He looked at Peter, he was shouting at them to stop, trying to lunge forward from his chair. Being carried out into the small corridor he could hear Peter shout, before the sound of flesh hitting flesh shut him up, followed by El screaming.

He was thrown into a room, it was bare. The guys following after, one holding him down while the other hit him over and over again, from head to toe. He couldn't contain the yelps of pain, knowing they would hear him next door.

Soon they stopped, he was coughing, unable to move from the floor, curled up on his side, hugging his ribs. The guy in charge walked through the door, he had Neal's belt and tie in his hand, while one of the other two began threading more rope through an iron hook in the ceiling. Before he knew it, he was being lifted, hands tied in front of him and being strung up to the hook.

The pain from being moved, coupled with the pulling in his shoulders made him scream. The room wasn't in focus and he didn't know what was happening. His toes barely scrapped the floor when stretched.

He felt a heat at the side of his arm, the guy in charge was standing close, mouth as close to his ear as possible. "Now, lets give them something to listen to, hum?" He stepped back, holding the belt buckle, raising it in the air. Feeling the searing pain against his shoulder blades, Neal screamed at the top of his voice.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you all for your reviews… keep 'em coming! Still violent, wee warning. It's a little short, so if I get requests, I might update earlier! Review!

Chapter 4

He had lost count of how many times he felt the burning sensation on his back. How many times he had failed to hold back the scream, his throat horse and sore. He didn't want to give him what he wanted, to let Peter and El hear him in pain, knowing there was nothing they could do. At least he wasn't making Peter do it this time.

oOo

After they left, Peter was disorientated. His stomach and face had been the main targets, but his legs had had a few kicks too. He heard El sobbing, looking at her with her darkening eye and cheek. They just sat there. Her asking if he was ok repeatedly. Him saying yes, but grimacing as he did. He was about to answer again when a scream ripped through the air. He sat up straighter, heart racing, the noise echoing in his ears.

"Oh my god, Peter." She was scared, of what she could see and what she couldn't. He looked at her, seeing the fear in his eyes reflected in hers. He was about to reply, to reassure her, when another ear piercing and pain filled scream erupted. He stared at the wall he knew separated him from his friend, when another one shook the room. They were continuous, and he wanted to know what the hell was happening. El began to cry again.

oOo

He was left hanging there. Swinging slightly, the ropes biting his already hurt wrists. The three guys were still there, behind so he couldn't see them. He felt one of them walk up to him, felt his tie being wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. He tensed. He felt his boxers be pulled down, to his knees, followed by what sounded like multiple click and flashes of a camera. He shivered, as they were returned to his hips.

"We'll sent them to your friend's next door, something to remember you by."

He felt himself move, his arms burning as he was cut down from the hook, blacking out momentarily from the pain spread from shoulder to shoulder and neck to waist. He screamed out again, his voice thin and strained. His hands were still tied in front of him.

He was on the ground again, crying out, feeling his arms being stretched once again over his head as he was dragged to the other room, blood trailing behind him and his back in agony. As the door opened he first heard Peter gasp.

oOo

After the torturous wait, the door was opened, the guy in charge walking through like nothing was wrong, with a bloody rag in his hand. Looking behind, Peter saw the hands of his friend, being pulled, tied together. He gasped, about to shout when the rag was stuffed in his mouth, a thick piece of tape securing it. He felt sick, the blood on that rag was Neal's and it was in his mouth.

But he forgot about it, eyes widening, when Neal was dragged into full view. The bruises on his body multiplied, a blood trail behind him. He felt sick. The guys brought him to where his chair was, dumbing him in front of it, back to Peter, showing him the uncountable rips in his flesh.

"This is when we bid you farewell. You see Agent, you had it all wrong, we didn't want information about anything. We just needed to distract your team long enough to get away. And I think it has been a success. Don't you?" He winked at Peter, turning swiftly, following his guys, giving Neal a kick to the front of his underwear – earning a moan – and leaving, stopping only to cut El's rope bindings.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi. Here we go! Love to hear what you all think… keep reviewing! No torture...but the start of the aftermath**

Chapter 5

No one moved, except the small and pained twitching of Neal on the cold, hard floor. El brought her hands to her lap, rubbing the circled wrists, trying to increase blood flow. She saw Peter look at her, the image of that bloody rag in his mouth drove her to stand, trying to ignore Neal's blood all over the floor, feeling terrible for walking past him, seeing his multiple injuries for the first time, hand flying to her mouth.

Kneeling next to her husband, her hand moved quickly to the tape, removing it with a grunt from him, followed by the rag being spat out. He coughed and gagged, gasping for breath.

"Try getting my hands free hon. Neal, hey, buddy come on. Can you hear me? Oh my god, what did they do to you?" He said it, but had a good idea what the answer would be. His wrists were bound tightly, it took long, precious minutes to get them untied. He swayed on the chair once he was free, feeling El's hands hold him to steady him. His face hurt, ribs tender and stomach painful, but he had to get to Neal.

Moving was tough, hands a bit numb but he was down on the floor, hand on Neal's left shoulder, as it trembled in the air. El went to his front, not wanting to look at the state of his back. Her touch was tender and she put her finger to his neck, feeling the pulse to be far too weak and far too fast, slowly peeling off the tie blindfold. She looked at her husband who was looking intently at the back of Neal's thigh.

He saw the blood, a single smudged line, starting at his hips and going underneath his boxers, appearing again down to the knee. He felt sick. Didn't know exactly what it meant about what had happened but knew the basics.

"What?" He snapped his gaze at his wife, her face scared again. He moved his hand to Neal's head, stroking his hair, looking at it while he spoke, unable to say it to her face.

"They... his underwear has been pulled down." He could barely say it, voice shaking. El, just continued to rub Neal's face, trying to wake him.

It had been over an hour before Neal started to groan. The pain flaring. He was on the floor, with a soft folded fabric under his head and a light white cover over his mid section. He moaned louder, Peter snapped awake from his position next to El propped up against the wall. He moved without thinking, waking her too. She looked confused, until Neal made a noise again. Both crawled over as fast as their stiff bodies could.

They went around to his front, Peter lying so he was right in his face, feeling Neal tense.

"Hey Neal, its just us. Open your eyes for me, come on," slowly his left eye opened, right swollen shut from earlier, "That's it. Thought you were ignoring us." It made Neal chuckle before he coughed, blood covering his teeth and pain on his face. He moved his right hand slightly – they had worked off the ropes while he was out – covering Peter's hand with his pinkie. Peter hooked his pinkie around it.

"There we go. It's ok, I've got ya. I won't let any one hurt you again. I'm so sorry. I've got you now, it's ok." He kept murmuring quietly, the same words over and over, just wanting Neal to stay conscious, running his other hand through his friend's hair. The thin and torn shirt was little protection from the cold room, Peter's over the bloody back, Neal's trousers folded as a pillow.

He shivered again, groaning in pain as it raked his body. They had to get him off the floor, or at least as much as possible. "Hey buddy, you're freezing lying here, we need to get you up against the wall. It could help you breath too. We'll do all the work, but its gonna hurt, but we'll be gentle I promise. Ok?"

Neal looked at him, giving a half smile before giving a small half nod. Peter smiled and arranged El to support his head. The second they moved, Neal was awake, screaming as the pain returned all over. Peter told her to keep going as the scream grew louder. They were quick and efficient, but it didn't matter, by the time all three were near the wall – Peter and El sitting against it and Neal lying with his head on Peter's lap – they were exhausted, tremors raking Neal's body. But he was still awake, staring ahead as Peter soothed his hair.

"Talk to me buddy. Anything, we don't care, just talk to us, let us know you're still with us."

"Are... are yous ok?" It was weak and pained, stuttering was unlike him. But the question is what got Peter the most.

"We're fine, we're fine. Don't worry about us. How are you?"

Having his head propped up helped him to breath, his neck off the floor decreased the shivers, and having company helped.

"I've... 've been better." It was the best way to describe it. He heard El laugh, Peter grunt, then a stab of pain went down his back and he gasped, followed with a loud groan.

"Easy, easy. Just breath. Don't worry, we'll be out of here in no time. You've just got to hold on for us." He felt his left eye slide shut, the pain winning the battle, even as he tried to hold on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Right, next chapter. Not many reviews, really want to know what you all think. Review pleeeaaase!**

Chapter 6

He doesn't know how long he sat there. One arm around El, who was asleep against him and one hand on Neal's shoulder, making sure he was still breathing, unsure what he'd do if he stopped. The room was getting colder and he had had to pull Neal closer, hugging him to give warmth.

oOo

He was drifting off when he heard it. Foot steps. Lots of them, heavy and fast. He tensed, thinking the guys had come back, instinctively pulling his wife and friend closer to him, waking her up. She was startled, fear in her eyes, but it was just her husband. Then she heard the noise, hand going out to grab Peter's on Neal's shoulder.

The noise was getting closer, louder, and Peter was steadying himself, for what he didn't know. As the door was forced open, three squat members came rushing in, guns drawn, stopping at the sight, El yelping. One radioed for Hughes.

oOo

As the lead Agent walked into the small cold room, he could smell the coppery blood in the air. Jones and Diana were behind, trying to take in the scene before them.

"We need an ambulance." It was all Peter could say. He began to take his arm away from El, Diana stepping in to help her up. She looked back at her husband, carefully stroking his friend's head, and then she was gone.

Jones was talking into his radio for the medics as Hughes stepped closer, kneeling and reaching out a finger to Neal's neck. The pulse was slow and faint, but there.

"He's still alive. He hasn't stopped shivering. He was only awake for a few minutes. I don't... I don't know how long ago that was. How long we been here?"

"Less than 24 hours. There were prints at the robbery, we worked it out from there," Hughes heard the medics behind him, turning slightly then talking back to Peter, "we have to go, have to let the medics work..."

"No. I'm not leaving him. I told him I'd protect him. I can't leave him." He pulled his friend closer, couldn't bare to let him go again. The medics came over, kneeling down to Peter's level.

"Sir. We are here to help your friend, we will not intentionally harm him. We need to look at his injuries, but you don't have to go anywhere. You can stay. Our colleges will take your wife and female agent to the hospital and we'll meet them there. Ok? You can stay with him." Peter looked down at Neal, shaking and pale, blood still wet on his back and on Peter's under shirt. He just nodded, relaxing his tight hold.

"Can you tell me what happened, sir?" Peter looked at him, he wanted to help Neal, looked friendly and kind, Hughes behind him, listening intently, wanting to know what happened.

"He... he was hit. Left and right side of the face.. His right eye was red and bloodshot... now its swollen shut. Em, hit to the entire body, when they first got the jump on us and through out, and I think... I think his belt was... was used..." He couldn't say it.

"It's ok, thank you. We need to check his back, can you step over there. You don't have to leave."

Peter reluctantly got up, Jones putting a chair behind him to sit. He looked over at Neal, lying lifeless and alone, medics prodding and poking him.

"Peter, Peter? Listen to me. They are going to move him, we need to take you out to the ambulance now. He'll be right behind us ok?" Hughes had his hand on Peter's face to draw his attention away from Neal. He didn't want to leave, but had no choice, slowly standing, Hughes on one side, Jones on the other, looking back at his friend – oxygen mask now covering his face.

oOo

The ride to the hospital was uneventful, until they were five minutes out. Then Neal's heart stopped. Peter watched the medic give him CPR, then shocking his battered body twice before he had a weak pulse. Then they were at the hospital, and he couldn't see him, instead taken to a room with El and Diana in it, empty bed to the side.

"Honey, are you ok? How's Neal?" She was anxious, worried about the men she had to leave behind.

"He... he's down stairs. They are working on him now." He didn't want to worry her any more than she was already.

"Ok, well the doctor will be here soon to talk to us, come sit down." He walked, as if in a daze to the bed next to his wife, sitting down. She could tell there was something he wasn't saying, glancing at Diana, she knew she noticed too.

"Honey, tell us. Please." She was next to him, putting her hand on his. He looked at Diana, scared to say he didn't know if Neal would make it. But turning to his wife, he knew he had too.

"His heart stopped. On the way here. I don't... I don't know if he'll..." He felt the lump rise in his throat, closing his eyes to see his friend laying on the stretcher having his already damaged chest pumped to try and re-start his blood.

"He'll make it boss. You know Caffery." He raised his head, giving Diana a small smile, but not quite believing it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day late. Here's the next one… not much reviews, let me know what you think! On to the hospital.**

Chapter 7

They had been in the hospital for three days. El was released the first night, Peter the second night – having only sustained bruising. He had stayed in Neal's room every minute since. El was living at the house with Diana and a team outside as they guys hadn't been caught. Neal's anklet had been replaced – much to Peter's disagreement – and armed guards were out side his door 24/7, in case they came back to finish the job.

He was sitting on the wide window ledge, looking out at the city below him. The constant beep of the heart monitor soothing. He had been intubated, but it had been removed earlier that day. Now he was waiting.

oOo

The monitor was speeding up. Slow at first, than quicker. Peter didn't notice, half asleep in the chair. He saw Neal's brow furrow, knowing he was trying to wake, pressing the call button. Three nurses came in, followed by the doctor. They were doing tests, Peter off to the side. But the more awake Neal got, the more agitated he became. Hearing the monitor scream, and Neal whimper, he stepped forward, wanting to help. But as soon as he was in Neal's eye line – left eye open and frantic, right bandaged shut – the alarms started to sound. He tried to move away, the same look on his face as when in the room. He was scared of Peter.

oOo

The doctor thought it was better Peter sat outside, having to sedate Neal slightly to calm him down. He was in the corridor outside the room, Neal's fear the only thing he could see. He felt a hand on his shoulder, flinching slightly, opening his eyes to see the doctor standing, walking in front of him to sit in the next seat.

"Agent Burke. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. How is he?"

"He's as good to be expected. Initial tests are showing positive signs. He is more aware now, sedatives wearing off. You can go in if you want." Peter nodded, both men standing before the doctor put his hand on Peter's arm, walking the other way. Taking a deep breath, Peter entered the room.

The machine was quieter than before. Neal lying with his left eye open, looking at the ceiling. Peter sat down, Neal looking at him, smile on his face.

"Hey." It was small, his voice obviously sore. It was quiet, sounding vulnerable. Peter didn't like it. He put his hand over the one resting on the white sheets.

"Hey buddy. How you doing? Had me worried there." He smiled as Neal half smiled back.

"Sore, tired, sore."

"I can't imagine."

"Are you ok? And El?"

"We're fine. You don't have to worry about us ok." The room was quiet, monitor and bustle from outside the only sounds. "Look, Neal, about earlier..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I was disorientated... I..."

"Don't apologise, it's ok. It's fine. As long as you're ok now, hum?"

Neal just gave him a sad smile, turning to look at the ceiling again. They both knew he wasn't ok.

oOo

It had been six days since their day of hell. Peter was still living in the hospital, mainly Neal's room. But that was going to change. The doctor had told them Neal would be released that afternoon. They said it would be best for him to have someone living with him, and a guard team was still in place at Peter's house so Neal was moving in until the guys were caught.

"You know you were chasing me for over three years right?" They were almost at the front doors to the hospital car park, Neal in a wheel chair – he hated it but it was hospital policy – and Peter pushing him. He had just told Neal he was living with them, and this was his only response. It made him smile.

"There is no way these guys are as good as you." Neal laughed, stopping quickly, grabbing his ribs.

"You know not to make me laugh."

They were outside, the air biting, both shivering. The standard FBI jeep was waiting, the armed driver out the door, opening the back. Getting Neal in the seat was difficult, his body was still sore and the cold air made it stiff, limbs not co-operating. Peter didn't want the unfamiliar agent helping, so he smiled, casually taking Neal's arm from the agent's hand.

oOo

The ride home was uneventful. Every time the car braked, Neal would hiss in pain at his seat belt tightened around his ribs. Every time Peter would cringe, reaching over mid way home to unfastened it, earning a small smile.

The weather was murky and grey, the ground still shiny from the rain the night before. The Agent had come to the back to help Neal, but Peter had jumped out, almost beating him to it. He took his friend's arm, helping him walk the short distance to the front door, but trying to make it look like he wasn't, tightening his grip and wincing every time Neal groaned in pain while trying to conceal it.

The house was warm, the air smelt of El's cooking. She and Diana came around the corner, welcoming her husband and guest. She was smiling, but the she looked scared that Neal was out of hospital and in her house, in case any one of them would break at any moment.

"Hi, honey, how you feeling? I hope Peter's been looking after you." She stepped forward, gently giving Neal a hug, giving a brief glance to her husband. Now that they were in, Peter could see the paleness of his friends' skin around the dark bruising and bandaged eye. Now he thought about it, Neal was leaning more and more of his weight on him.

"I'm ok, thank you for letting me stay."

"Of course, wouldn't have it any other way," she could see his eye continue to drift to the still blue tinge of her eye, so she turned slightly to Peter, "well, come in, dinner is almost ready. So you can both get settled. Neal, Jones went by June's yesterday and picked up some of your stuff. He used your key since she's out of town. I've tried to get in contact with her, but can't seem too." She started walking back to the kitchen, still talking, Diana nodding along, glancing back at her team mates.

"Right, think we better get you sitting down before you fall down, taking me with you," they shuffled forward to the sofa, both slowly sinking down to the comfortable cushions together. Neal grunted as Peter lay him against the back of the sofa, his back pain searing, "You ok? Need pain meds?"

"No, no, I'm good. Just need a minute." His head was spinning, every time he moved there was pain, and it was a reminder of that day. But he didn't want anyone worrying anymore than they already were. So he closed his eyes and rested his head back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, sorry it's a day late, had no wi-fi! Right, chapter 8… let me know what you think, pleeeaase!**

Chapter 8

It was the first night all three were under the same roof since that night. El was finding it hard to sleep, every time Peter moved in the bed, she would startle aware, her heart rate kept fluctuating. She thought it couldn't get any worse. Until the house shook with a pain filled scream.

Peter was up, out of bed and across the landing before he knew what hit him. He heard El behind, felt the cold steel of his gun in his hand. Diana was gone, he replacing her. The team still outside.

Barging into Neal's room, his mind still asleep, adrenaline rapidly pumping through his body, he was on high alert. But the room was dark and quiet, the only sound being the harsh breathing coming from the bed. Peter lowered the gun, walking slowly to Neal's side, El staying by the door.

He looked down, his friend's skin was glistening with sweat and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He could see the lines of pain around Neal's eye, the way his body shook as he lay on his side. The gun was forgotten, hanging limp in his hand by his side, being dropped to the floor with a soft thump. He stepped up to the bed, Neal's pained murmurs loud in the air, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch the exposed right shoulder.

As soon as he made contact, Neal was awake, yelling and jerking away, his left eye wide and scared. Peter smiled, edging forward to comfort him, but Neal pushed himself as far away as possible, back flush against the headboard. Peter jumped back, noticing once again the look of fear in his friend's eye.

oOo

They were at the table, him and El. Neither spoke, just looked down at the food in front of them. Silently eating and lost in their own thoughts, what happened last night still playing out in their head.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, no shirt on, feeling pain through his back with every breath. His arms were shaking, he scrubbed his hands over his face, right hand stopping at the bandage. Pulling them away, he saw the fiery red rings around his wrists, tightly closing his fists. He had to put a face on, this was not bothering him, he was fine. Standing up, ready to face his friends, he swayed, arm snapping out to steady himself on the bedside table. He breathed in deep, grimacing at the pain, reaching for a shirt – pulling the cuffs to his hands.

Hearing the floor board above them creek they both looked up. It was light at first, but a loud movement soon followed. It made them jump, Peter knowing Neal probably needed help. He was about to stand when they heard someone on the landing, then walking down the stairs.

He had on his easy going smile, hunching slightly but not complaining. He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, seeing his hosts look at him. The tension was thick, no one saying anything. Until El spoke up.

"We have toast, cereal, fruit? Sit down Neal, what would you like?" She was trying to make things better, standing up and offering her chair, walking around the kitchen island. Neal cautiously walked forward, sitting where his host was. He glanced across the table, eyes meeting Peter's for a split second.

He knew Neal was embarrassed, so was he. Both had their heads down, sitting in silence until El came back, mail under her arm. She was dressed for work, her clients coming for a meeting. Peter had said it was too soon, but she said she could handle it. She also wanted out from the middle of them both.

oOo

They were alone, trying to ignore the tension over the table. He knew he was going to have to say something, it shouldn't have to be Neal's step to take.

"How you feeling?" He looked up, Neal following.

"Ok."

"That's not an answer. I want to know how you are, really."

"I'm ok. Bit sore, all over," he tried to smirk, but looking at Peter, he couldn't, "but I'm guessing that's not what you meant." He looked down at the plate of cold food in front of him. He knew his voice was going to waver, but he knew he had to say it, "I'm so sorry about last night. I didn't mean for it to happen, I just..."

"Stop, just stop it. You don't have to apologies, you shouldn't be apologising. You have done nothing wrong. But we do need to talk about last night, before Jones comes to take us to the office for your statement."

Neal was looking at him, seeing how uncomfortable he was. He knew Jones was coming, Peter had already given his statement, but wanted to come as moral support. He had tried to make it that Neal and El didn't have to give a statement, but Hughes said – since Neal had been separated from them during the time frame – he would have to give one. He wasn't looking forward to it, trying to decide how much to tell them.

"I know, I just feel..."

"Peter," Jones' shout was punctuated by a rapping on the door. Both men jumped slightly, Peter looking to the door, Neal looking at him. Peter got up, striding to the door, letting his agent in. Neal heard them talking, not tuning in to what they were saying. Looking over, he saw the lines edged in his friend's face, the pain lingering as his eyes wondered back to the table, to him. That's when he knew, Peter couldn't hear him give his statement.

"Hey Neal, how you doing?"

"Good. I'm good, thanks Jones." He stood.

"I'm glad. I'm just gonna nip to the bathroom then we'll set off. Diana is just coming, she's talking to the team outside, wanted to see how you were." With that he turned, nodding to both men and walked towards the stairs.

"You know, I've been thinking... maybe it would be best if I went to the office alone." He was looking at the floor when he felt Peter turn to look at him. Silence followed.

"You don't want me to come? You don't want me there with you?" He sounded so hurt, Neal couldn't look at him.

"I think it'll be best..."

"Ok. Fine. Have it your way. Never mind the fact that I have been there for you throughout all this, sat at the hospital, brought you to my home, tried to..."

"Hey boss, Neal, how you doing?" Diana appeared at the side of them, stopping short at the tension in the room, seeing both men look intently at each other. No-one said anything. Jones reaching the bottom of the stairs, standing at the door, calling for Neal to follow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Wee bit late, sorry—but officially finished uni 'til September so plenty of time! Getting a bit more intense here, so tell me what you think, if I've done ok… if I can improve! Thanks!**

Chapter 9

Without another word, Neal turned and followed Jones, Peter and Diana watching them walk out the door. He walked over to the kitchen island, putting his hands on it, arms outstretched and head bowed. He felt Diana come beside him.

"Boss... you ok? Is Neal ok?"

"No, he's stubborn and selfish."

"Ok... Will I make us a cup of coffee and we can talk about it?" He just nodded, feeling her move away to the cabinet.

His gaze drifted over to the mail El had left. Bills, bills and a hand written envelope. It caught his attention, something making him reach over and grab it. Looking up, Diana was saying she was going out the back to do a perimeter sweep while the coffee brewed, something about have limited confidence in the guys outside. He wasn't really listening.

The letter was thick, stuck with tape. The stamp inconspicuous. But what really got Peter was who it was addressed to 'Mr and Mrs Burke, White Collar Division' - it had been hand delivered. It made him nervous, flashing back to the beginning of this hell. The writing was sloppy and rash, he turned it over, ripping the flap open. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but the six high gloss pictures wrapped in a letter that fell into his hand wasn't it.

He felt his breath quicken, hands shake, could taste the bile in his throat, letter forgotten. It was Neal, strung to the roof, exposed and vulnerable, tie around his eyes, underwear at his knees. He wanted to look away, but knew he shouldn't, for his friend's sake. The next one was just as bad – a different angle – then another, then another. The last two showed Neal's torn and bloody back.

He dropped the stack, elbows on the work top, head in hands. He tried to calm himself, thoughts running through his head, until one stuck. Neal was about to give his statement, alone.

Peter grabbed his coat, picking up the pictures – putting them in the envelope and hiding it in the kitchen drawer. Diana came back in.

"Boss? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just need to go into the office, Neal shouldn't give his statement alone." With that he left.

oOo

He spotted him as the end of the corridor, limping and in pain but trying to look like he wasn't. Peter ran up behind him, seeing him turn towards the noise, he telling the other agents to go ahead.

"Peter... what are you... I told you..."

"Shut up." Neal looked hurt, then mad, opening his mouth before Peter continued, mouth close to his friends ear, only seeing his profile. "I got a letter today. I got pictures." He felt Neal tense, swallow roughly and breath deep. Peter closed his eyes, knowing Neal knew exactly what he was talking about – he had been conscious. He leaned further into his friend, heads touching. "We'll talk about it when we're finished here, it's ok. But if you don't want anyone else to know... you don't have to tell them. This can be between me and you. You go in there and say exactly what you want to say, I'll have your back."

He grasped his friend's hand, feeling him tighten his fingers, turning his face to look at him. For the first time since that day, Neal looked him in the eye.

They left the room, both breathing deep. Peter saw Neal sway where he stood, knowing reliving it had made him tired. He gently placed a hand on his arm, guiding him to the chairs across from the room. Sitting, they didn't say anything, everything Neal had said running through their heads. As well as what he didn't say. Peter didn't blame him, he knew a lot had been skipped.

He turned to his friend when an agent – someone he didn't know – came out the room and towards them. He had been the other one in there. He didn't say much, just listened. Like Peter.

"Sorry Agent Burke, but forensics want Mr Caffery down stairs to finish up collecting evidence. Our in-house physician also wants to take a look him too."

"Can't it wait, I really think he should be going."

"Sooner the better Sir. Plus, means you wont have to come back tomorrow."

Peter looked at Neal, who shrugged his shoulders slightly and smiled. So they went. They both were apprehensive, seeing the doctor first. It was a small room, not windows, one door, top and bottom cabinets. Neal went in, Peter sitting outside the door, the morning playing over in his head. He was lost in thought when he felt a hand on his shoulder, eyes snapping open and flinching slightly. He looked to the side, standing when he saw Neal and the doctor looking at him, Neal's right eye without bandage.

"Sorry Agent, didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no you didn't," he looked at Neal, who was staring at him intently.

"Well, we're all done here. Your visit to the hospital in a few days should tell you more, but for now you're doing fine. I'll see you both later."

He shook their hands, then walked off in the direction they had came. Both men turned to walk the opposite way, getting the elevator up to evidence. Peter turned, looking at Neal's right eye. The skin around it was still blue, almost back, the eye ball still red and bloodshot. It looked painful.

"Stop looking at me. I'm fine." He turned his head, giving a small smirk.

"Well that eye doesn't look 'fine'. Is it sore? Looks sore."

"Bit. Vision's a bit fuzzy too, but he said it was to be expected. Don't worry about it." But Peter did.

oOo

The evidence room was quiet, and cold. Neal shivered. He only had his shirt on. The tech guy came out from behind the counter, smile on his face. He seemed kind and friendly, but Neal still tensed.

"Agent Burke, Mr Caffery, they just called to tell me you were coming. I'm almost set up, be right back."

He jogged back around the middle island, into a smaller room and shut the door.

"So, why are we here exactly? Documenting injuries right?"

"Yeah, cause I was conscious, they did it at the hospital, but I'm gonna stay with you, then we'll go." Neal just nodded, thinking again about what was to come. The guy came out, gesturing for Neal to follow. He quickly glanced at Peter before moving past him. Peter followed to the room, being stopped before he could enter.

"Sir, you can wait out here, we won't be long."

He was about to agree when he looked past the man in front of him, to Neal, standing, staring at the camera. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, Peter could only imagine what he was thinking.

"No. I'm coming in." He wasn't giving any room for negotiation, side stepping the tech and walking in.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi, next one, still intense… as if it would be anything else! Please review, not been getting much and want to make it as good as possible!**

Chapter 10

The room was bare, white and stark. Peter sat at the back, out of the way but in easy reach. He had managed to talk Hughes out of this at the hospital, but was thinking it might have been best to do it then, knowing what he does now. He watched as the tech spoke to Neal, telling him what was going to happen, what he had to do. He watched as Neal smiled, trying to hide the paling of his skin.

He told Neal to undress down to his underwear. It made Peter shiver, wondering if he should be here after all. But seeing the anxious look on Neal's face turn to determination and confidence when he looked up at his friend, he knew he couldn't leave.

He noticed Neal took his trousers off first, folding them on the chair. The guy was turned away, fixing the lighting. But Peter noticed – as Neal started unbuttoning his shirt – that his hands were shaking. The more buttons that were unfastened, the more bruises visible. Peter watched as the dark colouring on the abdomen was revealed, breath catching in his throat.

The tech started to direct Neal in how to stand, camera flashing unexpectedly, Neal snapping his eyes shut. It made Peter stand, seeing his friend's chest rise and fall quickly. But Neal didn't say a thing.

oOo

The drive home had been uneventful. It was later than they thought it would be, Neal exhausted. The agents outside just nodded as they passed up the front path, Peter holding Neal's arm. He knew as soon at they entered that his wife was home, it was the beautiful smell of food. Inside was warm, contrasting the cold breeze outside. Diana was still there, helping with the diner.

"Hi hon, we're back. Sorry it was longer than expected," he directed Neal to the sofa, helping him lower onto it. He could see the lines of pain and tiredness around his eyes and mouth.

"No worries boss, Jones called ahead. How'd it go?" Diana was walking from the kitchen as Peter left the sofa and met her half way.

"It was ok, I suppose. He's tired, it took a lot out of him," he stopped as his wife walked around the wall cabinet, in to his sight, "Hi, diner smells amazing."

"I'm glad, its almost ready. Diana, do you want to join us?"

"No, but thank you for the offer, I should be getting back to the office. Call if you need anything." She walked towards the table, El following, helping her get her stuff, and walked out the door, stopping to say something to Neal.

"Right gentlemen, take your seats." She turned to the oven.

Peter turned to Neal, who was starting to recover from his long day, already standing and walking towards him. Both took their seats, Neal at the head of the table, leaving the chair across from Peter free for El. The food looked delicious, the three silent to eat. Peter's eyes kept wondering over to the end drawer. It was never used, by him if ever. He knew he would have to address the pictures, read the letter. Glancing at Neal, he knew he was going to have to talk to him.

oOo

El was watching TV, engrossed in what ever was on. Neal was upstairs, Peter was out on the back deck, envelope in hand. The letter was just four words; "Wish You Were Here" - making Peter crumble it up in his fist. His friend had needed him. He closed his eyes, putting his head back, breath out visible in the cold dark.

"Boo!"

Peter jumped in his chair, gasping as the air was scared out of him. His head going around to see Neal standing with his top half around the door frame. He was smiling, walking to the opposite side of the table, sitting down. He was smirking as Peter tried to calm him self.

"Seriously? After everything... Boo?!"

"Sorry, sorry. My bad. You just looked like you needed a little scare."

"Yeah, I've had that alright." He looked down at the crumpled letter and envelope with the pictures. He had acted without meaning to, looking back to see Neal staring at what he had in his lap as well.

"That them?" It was said quiet, without much feeling. Peter just closed his eyes, "Yeah. Yeah it is." Only silence followed.

"Can... can I see them?" Peter didn't know what the response would be, but this was in a different league.

"What? No... HELL no! No-one else is ever gonna see these, ever, I promise."

"Peter..."

"No." They just looked at each other.

"You said we were going to talk. So...?"

"Yeah, right... well... I think we need to," Peter glanced inside, seeing El asleep on the sofa, "these need to be talked about. What ever you tell me... I will not tell anyone else, no one. Ok? But you HAVE to tell me everything, truthfully. No matter how hard it is, how much you want to keep it secret, you can't. Not with me, that's the deal. I need to know everything."

"Ok, I get it. Ask what you want to know." He was passive, clearly not wanting to talk but knowing he had too.

"Ok," he put the envelope on the table along with the letter still in a ball, "tell me about these." The statement hung in the air, Neal swallowing hard, Peter feeling guilty.

"Once they dragged me to the other room, they beat me until I was close to unconsciousness. I couldn't fight, or even try. They tied me... tied me to the roof," his eyes began to glaze over, he shook his head slightly. He had skipped over most of this in the statement, just given the bare minimum.

"Did he say anything to you?" Peter was going back into Agent mode, but his voice was quiet, as if he didn't want to know.

"Yeah. He... eh... he said 'lets give them something to listen to' knowing yous could hear us. Hear me. He was using it against me, against you. I tried to... I mean I didn't want you to hear..."

"It's ok, I know. That bastard... then again I'm not surprise after reading..." He stopped at Neal looking up to him. He didn't mean to say it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Here's the next one, let me know what you think!**

Chapter 11

They each had a beer, staring off into the night, thinking about the re-run of the day just played out. There was a team out the front, the odd agent walking around the bottom gate of the garden. But they were alone.

"He said the pictures would be sent to you," he wasn't looking a Peter, but Peter looked at him, "said it would be something for you to remember me by. I thought he was going to kill me, right there... and I'd get found like..." He looked down at his bottle, slightly shaking in his hand.

"Damn. I can't imagine how you felt, I can't. You didn't deserve it," he saw Neal nod, but knew this was the time to ask the thing that had been at the back of his mind all day, "I'm gonna ask you this once, only once, and you have to give me the truth. You have to Neal. When, when these photos were taken... did they, did anything else happen? I mean... were you...?"

"No."

Peter just looked at him. It wasn't that he didn't believe him, he just knew he would lie if it was true. "Stop looking at me like that. I'm telling the truth, I promise." He didn't need to look at Peter to know what he was thinking.

"I believe you. Just as long as you continue to tell me the truth." They looked at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking, Neal breaking the stare first.

oOo

He and El were lying in bed, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping, Neal's words circling in his head. The circle was continuous, until it landed on the parting exchange, Peter could tell El. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. He knew it would be hard to keep it from her – that being Neal's main reasoning – but he knew it meant saying it out loud, her having to hear it, live with it, but mostly it meant she would be withholding from the FBI. So he knew he couldn't.

He looked back at the clock, 4am. He got up, quietly padding down to the kitchen. The light was still on, to make it easier for the team out side to keep watch. He didn't know why he was up. But he knew why he couldn't sleep, those six images – coupled with what he had been told – burning through his brain. He had put them – and the letter – in his bedroom safe. Part of him wanted to burn them, but the Agent part knew he couldn't.

Going back up, he looked in to his friend's room. He expected Neal to be asleep, but he was sitting on the bed, legs over the side, back to the door showing the criss-cross of healing wounds. Peter wanted to go in, wanted to ask if he was ok. But something stopped him. He turned and went back to bed.

oOo

Peter slept in. He doesn't really know how, the lack of sleep from the last two weeks catching up to him. The sun was shining and El had already left for work by the time he got down stairs. The place was empty, he looked out to see Neal sitting where he was last night. He made himself coffee and joined him.

"I would say 'boo', but I'm not that mean." He sat in the same chair as last night, as Neal smirked and turned to face him.

"Now, I don't believe that. You're up late, you missed El."

"I know, that's what two weeks of no sleep does to you." They both sat in silence, listening to the birds, sipping their coffee. The sun was strong for this time in the morning.

"You didn't tell her." It wasn't really a question, it was clear Neal knew the answer.

"No. I thought about it, but I couldn't. Best to keep it between us."

"I never asked... what does it mean for you to keep it from the FBI?"

"Well, they'll never know. But if I – we – have to go on the stand, we have to say nothing else happened. If they find out we did that, jail, possibly." He didn't want Neal to know this but knew he should. He looked over at him, he was staring, eye more blue than black now.

"I can't let you do that."

"Tough, I am."

"Peter..."

"No arguments. I have to."

"You don't." They just sat there, staring out to the garden, as another agent walked past, nodding as he went. "I see you've increased security. New developments in the case?"

He didn't want Neal to know the envelope was hand delivered, that those people knew where they were, where El and Peter lived. "No, no leads, just vigilance. Listen Neal, I talked to Hughes yesterday and I've been cleared to go back to work. I'm leaving in a couple of hours to get things in order. That's why there's extra agents."

He felt Neal stare at him, but he just sipped his coffee. He had done a lot of thinking, he knew he had to make this right.

"You can't. You can't look for them, not after everything, not after everything that happened."

"I can. I have to, to put an end to this."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" The stern anger coming from his friend's mouth made Peter snap his head to face him. He looked mad, he looked scared.

"It means I have to get them for what they did. To you, El, putting us in this position. I have to do it. For us, for you. So we can sleep without having five agents minimum outside the house. I need to know that when you are well enough to go home you will be safe, you'll feel safe. I need to be a part of it."

"I get it. But, please, don't just do it for my sake. Don't push yourself too much. Don't do anything you'll regret." Looking at Peter, Neal knew he was going to do what ever it took to bring them down, and he wouldn't regret any of it.


	12. Chapter 12

Right, this has been AGES since the last one. Let me know what you think… please? I'm writing more the now… so hopefully more soon. Keep me motivated!

Chapter 12

"So, how are we doing?"

Hughes looked over the top of his glasses at him, across his desk and finally away from prying eyes. The walk through the FBI building definitely made Peter feel out of place. The sideway looks, the stares, some short and hidden but most prolonged and unashamed. He wondered what people knew. The guilt within himself was enough, he didn't need the judgement of others. Once he got of the White Collar floor, things became more friendly.

Now though, Hughes was expecting an answer, clearly having doubts about him being back.

"I'm good sir. Glad to be back, back to work. Start putting this thing behind me, us." He could see Reese wavering, unsure if this answer was what he had wanted. After thinking it over, he seemed to approve, as a small smile appeared on his mouth. He picked up a case file, sliding it across to Peter. Picking it up, he saw it was a mortgage fraud case. He looked through it briefly, confusion written on his face.

"But sir, I don't understand... I thought I would be..."

"You thought you would be on YOUR case Agent Burke? Working on getting the men who HARMED you, your wife, your CI. Come on Peter, you had to have known that wasn't going to happen. That I couldn't let you work on it?"

So that's how he ended up here, in his glass office, turned with his back to the desks below and staring out the large window to the city around him, the case file open and forgotten on his desk. He had tried to work on it but each time he had glanced up he saw the empty desk of his friend, people staring at it as they walked past. The rest of his team was working on the case – his case – in the conference room. He jumped at the quiet knocking at the door, it pulled him from his memories into the present. Diana was half edged into the room, he nodded at her to enter.

"Hi boss, sorry for intruding..."

"No, course, have a seat. What's up, a break in the case?"

She smiled at his inability to play it cool, instead showing his intentions from the start. She sat across from him, staring, deciding if she was doing the right thing. Deep breath.

"Not exactly, but I wanted to run something by you? On the down low if that's ok?"

"Ok... something to do with my exciting mortgage fraud case?" The way he lightened the mood proved to her this was the way to go.

"No, but that could be arranged. It's about the case, the other one, your one." She looked down as she said the last description, her mind flashing back to walking in to that room. She shook it off, head rising to see her boss' intense stare, seeing he himself not know if being told was a good idea. "We have a few leads, mostly from the basement, some from the original crime scene at the gallery. Nothing glaring at the minute, so don't ask. But... I wanted to see if you would be able to handle being... I don't know, kept in the loop a little?"

He knew what she meant, she was going to feed him information under the table. Did he like it? No, he didn't want Diana putting herself in the position he was in with keeping things for Neal. But he wanted to know what was happening, needed to know.

"Are you sure about this? If someone found out, you would be in a lot of trouble, it's a lot to ask..."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. You need closure, the three of you. So let me help. I want to." He smiled, just the one side of his mouth, a slight nod. She got the answer she had expected. Without another word she got up and left.

OOo

Once Peter left, he didn't really know what to do. Satchmo was lazing about, the back door open to allow him free rein to where ever he wanted to go. But Neal just sat there. Perched on the edge of the sofa, hands hanging loosely by the outside of his knees, eyes closed. The funny thing was that – after everything that had happened – the one thing that had stuck in his head was when El was hurt. That one simple action had – he felt – been caused by him. By Peter not wanting to hurt him. He was struggling, with all of it. More than anyone else knew. Like the when he is caught unawares, and he looks at Peter, his heart speeds up, breath quickens, and he has to close his eyes and look away. But no one knows, he just has to keep it that way, after all Peter is doing for him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Next one… Summer holidays are meant to be for relaxing… not so much in my case! But been on a fic role recently… so got some chapters stored up! It's going in a slightly different direction than I thought it would… but excited for what I've got planned! Let me know what you all think. x**

Chapter 13

It felt weird being driven home, but Peter tolerated it. The agent assigned to him wasn't his team, he was from a branch of Witness Protection. He didn't know the guys name, and he didn't really care, just wanted to get home. 5.43, he was finding it hard to believe that he was on the way home at this time of the day, his usual time being closer to 8pm. But that was part of the arrangement with Hughes, leave at a proper time and don't over exert.

As the house loomed nearer, he noticed El just arriving. He was nervous, he had told her about going back to work, and since she was back at the gallery, she couldn't really say much. But he could tell she didn't like the idea. Told him he should be resting at home, making sure Neal was ok. Truth was, since the pictures arrived, things were tense. He felt he had let his friend down, going to work was the best way to try and put it right. He saw her look over, and wait on him.

oOo

The house was quiet, normally just the way he liked it. But it wasn't until he heard a noise at the door that he realised two things. One, he had been sitting in the same position since Peter left that morning, the back door still open and the house freezing. And two, anyone could be on the other side of that door. Both were in his head in an instance, he found himself suddenly standing, turned towards the door, with a baseball bat in his hand. He wasn't sure how it got in his hand, really how any of it happened. I was like he was sitting, blinked and was ready for attack. The pain of his back was burning, the door opened, he stepped forward, arms raising the bat high above his head. Then El walked in. She screamed.

As they walked up the pathway to the house, EL kissed his check, telling him in her own way that she felt she had over-reacted and they were fine. She put her key in the lock, it jamming like it always seemed too when the weather began to turn cold. She pushed and pulled, the lock giving way and she pushed the door open. Peter smiled at how she got frustrated at the key, throwing her whole body into the door. The smile disappeared as she stepped twice and screamed.

He grabbed his gun out the holster, heard the opening and shutting of car doors as the protection moved towards the house. He pushed El aside, hearing her say something but didn't listen. Gun raised, agents behind him, others approaching the back door, they all stormed in, shouting at the person in the living room. The noise deafening.

Neal was terrified, as soon as he saw El he knew he had been wrong, immediately lowered the bat. Not quick enough. The room erupted in noise and bodies, people shouting at him, threatening him. Telling him to get on the ground. He tried, the fear washing over him, but his aching body wasn't cooperating. The bat had long hit the ground and as his shaking, numb legs started to lower himself beside it, he felt someone grab his shoulder – hard – causing agony to his shoulder joint and back, causing him to shout in pain as they forced him down. And at the front of it all was Peter.

It wasn't until the sound of pain that Peter realised who the person was. The red mist lifting, letting him see his friend petrified and being forced on the ground. Without even thinking, he dropped his gun and began shouting at them to stop. They all turned, all twenty-three, a few finally recognising the person on the floor. Silently backing away they allowed room for Peter to step closer, only just able to hear the faint whimpers coming from Neal, still lying down, head to the side looking away.

"Everyone stop. Everyone out, now. I apologies for the miss understanding, but can everyone please get back to their posts immediately. Thankyou." He waited until they all were out, it was just him, Neal, and El still standing by the door; breathing heavy and looking at the scene in front of her. He moved closer, seeing Neal had his eyes squeezed shut. He took his hand and placed it on his friend's head, trying to ignore the flinch away. He went close to his ear whispering;

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's just us now, you're safe now ok? Everything's ok, you did nothing wrong, it's ok. "

El heard him repeat the phrases over and over again. She was still scared, not sure how to act, thinking she shouldn't be watching. Peter must have sensed this, he glanced up, telling her to go get a glass of water, and to take her time. So she did.

"Ok, it's just us, I'm going to help you up now ok? Going over to the sofa, ok? Come on buddy, work with me here." He noticed Neal's eyes become more relaxed, then opening, glancing up to him.

Slowly but surely they began to move, Neal stifling grunts and small cries of pain. Peter felt the guilt wash over him, noticing that Neal didn't look at him once. They both sat on the sofa, slightly panting, Neal leaning back, pain etched on his face lying his head back and closing his eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

**Right, on to this one. I'm currently working on chapter 23… I was on a roll! Let me know what you all think… I really appreciate it! It's gonna be longer than I thought… don't normally like the aftermath… but it's flowing sooo… xx**

Chapter 14

By the time El came back with the water – having taken as much time as possible – the men were stoic on the sofa. It was clear that the night's sudden turn of events had had an effect on all three of them, Neal still in pain and scared to move, Peter still seeing himself pointing his gun at his terrified friend, and the glass was shaking in El's hand, making the water slosh around.

As she made her way over, Peter snapped out of his daze, giving her a sad half smile. The glass hitting the table was loud in the hollow silence and Neal's head snapped up, his knee jerking away from the noise.

"Sorry," she felt bad, seeing his eyes rapidly scan the room, never looking her in the eye.

"Neal, you ok? I'm so sorry. We just... we just reacted. We shouldn't have... it WON'T happen again, I promise." But no response met him.

oOo

That night ended quick. Something simple was cooked and by half past seven Neal was making his way to bed. He had hardly said anything, except to say he was fine, they weren't to worry. As soon as he was up, closed the door, and couldn't breathe. He had managed to keep it in for so long, the overwhelming pain of emotion swelling to unbearable limits in his chest. He slid down the door, facing it, feeling his back hurt as he slightly hunched forward, hand on the door handle to keep balanced. The air was coming out in ragged bursts, going in just the same. Tears stung his eyes. His chest heaved and body shook. The pent-up emotion of not just tonight but the day as well was overtaking his body, his mind. And there was no way to stop it.

Once Neal had gone upstairs, Peter let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. How had his relatively good day drastically changed. The guilt was gnawing at him. El was still shocked, he saw her look sideways at Neal during the silent meal, asking if he was ok at seemingly random intervals. Whereas he just sat there, barely eating.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Her question surprised him. These were the first words she had spoken to him since they were on the path.

"I can't believe it happened. All so fast. So sudden. I... I can't..." He felt the lump in his throat get the better of him. Sitting on the sofa he put his head in his hands, feeling El walk a bit closer.

"I just got a fright, I mean after everything. I... I tried to tell you as you went past..."

"I know, I know. I thought they were back, thought you were scared. I... I didn't even think about him. Neal being here, it didn't even cross my mind. I just thought about you." His voice was shaking again. How had he done it? El walked beside him, sitting down and rubbing small circle into his back. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of what to say when it occurred to her, she didn't hear Neal walking about. He would be going to the shower around now, but no footsteps were heard. Peter felt her stop moving, looking at her and then following her gaze upwards to the silent floor above.

oOo

When he woke, his heart was racing. The left hand spread out on the bed in front of him was shaking slightly. The room was dark, no light outside except the faint street light streaming through the window. The clock said 2.18am, and he was still in his clothes from the day before. As he moved his arm from a right angle down beside his body, a small grunt edged into the silence. The hot burn of the shoulder movement, straining his back. He remained face down, scared to move again.

Peter lay awake as the clock ticked its way through the night. El went to bed not long after Neal, he a few hours later. He had sat down stairs staring at a black tv screen, sliding into bed near midnight. He wanted to look in on Neal, but thought better of it. And still the clock ticked.

He was up early and down in the kitchen making breakfast as El ran into the living room.

"Arg... I'm late already. Completely forgot I had an early meeting to talk about damage control from the... the ah break in," she didn't look at him, rushing to the door, throwing a good bye and wave over her shoulder, muttering as she went. As Peter looked out after her, he saw Reese approaching the house.

"Peter. Sorry for dropping in unannounced," his voice was calm but stern as he entered the open door, Peter closing it behind him, "but thought it be best to visit... considering." His expression was grave and he looked tired – no, exhausted.

"Of course, sir, would you like anything to drink, eat?" Hughes gave a curt shake of the head, and lowered into a dining room chair. He shrugged his heavy overcoat on to the high chair back, leaving his suit intact. His expression flat.

"How is he?" The sentence was short and hushed, almost as if he was afraid to ask. He was looking down at his clasps hands on the table in front of him, Peter sitting at a right angle, back to the kitchen.

"I don't know. I mean, we didn't really talk last night, and he hasn't come down yet. I'm almost scared to ask..."

"I understand. That's why I'm here, to tell you to take the morning off... I mean you can have the whole day, but thought you wouldn't want to. You need to talk to him... make sure he's ok..."

"I will, thank you. And no, I'll be in later. Just got to sort some things out..."

"Ok, good, well... be nice. I should be going. I'm going to talk with the teams outside, make sure it doesn't happen again, just wanted to pop in and..." His fare well was cut short by movement coming down the stairs, causing both men to stop their rising from chairs, heads looking towards Neal appearing at the foot of the stairs. He looked awful, hair a mess and the same clothes as yesterday. He was obviously startled to see not just Peter but Hughes, he stopped in his tracks.

"Ah, Caffery, glad I got to see you before I left," he stood, walking over and nodded to the consultant as he passed, a brief glance at his right shoulder, looking up at Peter and raising his eyebrows. His hand patted the younger man's elbow, causing a small jump, and exited the house with no more to say.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi. Here's the next one. Review and let me know what you think! x**

Chapter 15

With Hughes gone, both men just looked at each other. Both feeling awkward, neither knowing what to do or say. The silence was broken by the boiling of the kettle.

"Coffee?" Peter said over his shoulder as Neal walk to the table, slowly lowering himself into the now empty chair, murmuring a yes. No more than a minute later, hot mugs sat in front of the men, staring at each other with sad smiles.

"So, I think we should talk about yesterday... and I think it's appropriate that I start. Neal smiled at the amount of thought evident in Peter's voice but didn't interrupt, "I want to make sure you know how sorry I am that it happened. Now I completely understand if you want to leave, I won't hold it against you... I mean of course you are more than welcome to stay, I want you to... But if you think it'll be better if you didn't..."

He couldn't listen to it any more, the rush of words coming out of Peter's mouth, "I don't blame you, it wasn't your fault and I'm not thinking of leaving... now knowing I'm still welcome. Please don't keep going over it, it's done," he saw the look on his friends' face, change from sad to relieved in the space of two seconds. Still looking like he had something to say.

"I forgot you were here," he looked his younger friend in the eye, "last night I forgot you were here and that you would be in the house. I've been thinking about it all night and I'm so sorry."

"I was terrified," after that admission, it had to be countered, "when someone was at the door. I didn't mean to scare her, I didn't, I promise..."

"I know, I know that."

oOo

When he walked in to the office, lunch time was drawing to an end and he was already exhausted. Neal told him to leave, his eyes jumping around. He told him he was going upstairs anyway and not to worry. So he'd left. He went straight to his office, nodding at Jones, Diana and Hughes on the way, finally finding solitude closing his door and sitting down at the desk, mortgage fraud file still open. A small yellow pad having appeared within the mess. " _found this last night, going in tomorrow_ " a short address scribbled underneath in Diana's neat scribe. He smiled. The place was near the docks, all he had to do now was get involved without outing Diana as his source.

oOo

"Burke." His boss' voice was at the door, the finger point directed at him. Three hours had passed without him really noticing. He got up, long strides and out the door. He was led into the conference room, the table and wall covered in photos, evidence, case files. He looked around at his team – Hughes included – they looked exhausted, like they hadn't been home in days, weeks. He suddenly felt a swell of appreciation. They had been working night and day for him. And El. And Neal. He noticed his friends' mug shot stuck to the wall, cut so it didn't look like a mug shot, with his FBI issued picture and a close up on El. But underneath someone had quickly stuck one of Peter and Neal chatting. It was lopsided, the camera angle was shocking and only Neal was looking at the lens, but it made Peter smile. Neal wasn't just a criminal to those investigating, he was one of them. This was personal for everyone.

"We wanted to show you what we had. Thought it best you didn't find out afterwards... for all our sakes," Hughes smiled, everyone else chuckled. He could feel the relief in the room. They finally had something to go on, and they weren't letting it slip away. They filled Peter in, about how they had noticed pretty quickly that Peter and Neal hadn't come back, went outside to find El's car still there with no one around. How they had worked the gallery scene and traced the guys to the place they had found them. How since the rescue they had worked each and every lead with any shred of possibility. And now they found something. Peter had to look surprised and not glance at Diana as they told him the address, feeling the torn paper almost burn his pocket.

"We want you to come with us. We know you will never be satisfied until you have something to do with the outcome. So... what'd you think?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Next one for ya. Think I'll update sooner for the next! Let me know what you think! xx**

Chapter 16

1pm. That was when it was going down... give or take a couple of minutes. He was feeling that feeling, the adrenaline pumping and mind focused. The only thing now though was telling El and Neal. They probably wouldn't approve. Good thing was he could probably do it separately, El was going to be home later than he would, Neal would know first. He got out the back of the car, nodding to the driver and the agents outside. The door opened easily, quiet met him, a stark difference to the night before. What really struck Peter was how quiet it was. As he walked in, Neal was nowhere to be seen. He shouted out, but nothing. Not on the couch, nor the dining table, and not in the kitchen. Interesting.

He went upstairs two at a time, turning towards Neal's 'room' the door slightly open. I pushed it gently, looking in. Any good news disappeared from his head at what he saw. He was sitting on the bed, back to the door, looking at the wall beneath the window. He still had on the clothes from the morning – and the night before – hair still a mess. But what got Peter the most was the blood. It was on his right shoulder, having seeped through the top. His mind flashed back to Hughes' face when he left that morning. Until now, he hadn't thought about it. Guilt washed over him.

"Neal?"

Although his voice was quiet, it sounded loud in the silence, and Neal spun around, staring at him.

"Peter, hey." It was an uncharacteristically simple greeting.

"Hey bud, you ok?" His eyes slide from looking at Neal's face to his shoulder. His friend just turned his head away, looking straight ahead. Peter stepped forward, then again. He put his right knee on the bed, he was within touching distance. His hand went out, grazing the bloodied area. Neal jumped, spun around and almost fell off the bed, causing Peter to snap his hand back. The look of terror on his friend's face made his body cold. He watched as Neal turned his head away, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"No. No don't apologies. It's ok. Just, breath and come closer, I need to see your shoulder."

"No," he slightly pulled his shoulder away from his friends' touch, "it's fine, don't worry. You go down, I'll be there in a minute. Is El home?" Peter could tell he was trying to change the subject, but it wasn't happening.

"Neal, you're hurt, let me see," he gently took the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it upwards. No resistance met him, which was the scariest thing. The scarring was worst close up, it made fury flood Peter's mind. He wanted to stop, the sight hurting him, but he had to keep going. The discoloured skin started to show, a light purple, getting darker the more revealed. In the centre was a long red and angry mark... something Peter didn't want to think about. It was healing until half way, then the wound had re-opened and red skin surrounded it, the dark purple surrounding that.

"Jesus Neal, what the hell?" He was whispering, his hand ghosting over the area.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you I just..." His head hung down. He couldn't think straight, his brain was fuzzy, he hadn't slept right in a while, I felt distant. He felt Peter press just below his shoulder blade, the pain helped him to focus. He jerked the shoulder away, hearing Peter apologise behind him.

"I'm sorry, sorry. Turn a bit, I'm going to get something to treat it ok? I'll be right back.

As he jogged down stairs, he saw El being dropped off. He hurried to the first aid box, hoping to get back up before she came in. No luck, he had climbed two steps when she entered.

"Hey hon. How was work?" Her smile dropped when he turned, and she saw the box, "What's wrong? Are you ok?" She looked worryingly up the stairs, wondering why he was hiding being hurt.

"Hi, yeah I'm fine," he walked back down the two steps, face to face with her, "It's fine, I'm just helping Neal. It seems yesterday might have had more an effect then I thought. Looks like when they... Forced him to the ground," he said this through gritted teeth, it made him angry all over again, "they reopened a wound, the bruising is dark and looks painful. I'm just going to help." He saw El's face go from concern to sympathy to anger. She said no more, let him turn to continue going up stairs.

He hadn't moved, still sitting the same way, head lowered. Peter knew he was struggling, he had been to absorbed in work to notice. Not after tomorrow. He walked in, sitting on his left leg on the bed.

"Hey, Neal, come a bit closer bud, I've got cream and bandages here, I'll be gentle I promise." It flashed him back to saying those words when Neal was lying on that cold floor in the basement. He shivered. Neal on the other hand started to shift, bending his right knee onto the bed, moving his head to glance at his friend, small smile on his lips. Peter raised his hand slowly, putting cream on the wound, ignoring the slight flinch below his hand.

"What happened Neal?" He continued working, "was it last night? You can tell me, it's ok."

"Yeah, obviously I didn't move fast enough," he was trying to add humour to the situation, but it made Peter madder.

"It's ok. I'll fix it. I won't make a big deal, don't worry."

As he was finishing up, Neal picked at the t-shirt he had been wearing, the blood stain larger than he had thought. He felt it be tucked away as Peter had finished playing nurse. They smiled at each other as Neal passed it over. He felt Peter move to stand, felt a fresh top being put on the bed in his place.

"El's home, think I can smell something cooking. Get changed and I'll see you down there, ok?"

"Yeah, thanks Peter."


	17. Chapter 17

Hi. Next up… review and let me know! Bit of a cliff-hanger… xx

Chapter 17

As he walked back down to the kitchen, the smell of food got stronger and stronger. He smiled. El was busying about preparing things, boiling, frying. Peter could tell she was trying to keep herself busy. He put the box down on the kitchen island, the noise making El quickly turn.

"How is he?" She looked at him, giving a small smile.

"Em, that's a difficult question to answer. He, he's struggling, more than I thought. But it'll be fine, after tomorrow..."

"What's happening tomorrow?" He had spoken without thinking, her question full of curiosity.

"Well, I'm going out in the field in the afternoon, the team have a lead about the case, I'm helping carry out the..."

"What? You're involved in this, with those men? You're going after them? That's insane!" Her voice was raising, her eyes misty. This wasn't how he had planned to tell her. It had gone all wrong.

"This is coming out wrong, I'm going to help, I need to..."

"No you don't. You don't 'need' to. You don't need to go anywhere near them again. Do you even remember what happened? What they did? What they put us through?"

"Of course I do, for God sake. I remember, I remember everything, which is why I have to go. El, I have to be a part of this, and you have to understand that."

"No, I don't. You have to realise that I worry all the time. But to think that you will be out there, with them near you tomorrow, that you'll try to play hero bring them down, do you understand..."

"You're doing what?" Being so preoccupied with each other they hadn't noticed Neal now standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Peter turned hearing his voice. This wasn't how he wanted them to find out, it was all going wrong.

"Neal, listen, it's going to be ok, everything will be fine. They have them, they know where they are, we have them. And I'm gonna be there. I need to be there, see it through, you know this."

"No, you don't. You shouldn't even be back at work, never mind going out to get them. Please, don't do this for the wrong reason."

"What reason? You have a reason?" Peter was feeling dizzy, now turning back to his wife, he couldn't keep up. She looked hurt and angry and tired. It made him feel worse. "Why would you have another reason, one that I don't know about?"

He looked at Neal, his t-shirt showing a section of bruising at the neck, looking as though he had pulled his fingers through his hair. His eye still heavily bruised, eyeball less red. But the thing that got Peter was the way he looked worried, scared, sad. I had to be a part of the operation. He just had to.

oOo

Walking into the office that morning, the whole place was buzzing. He had managed to talk El down, eating dinner in silence. Her going to bed early and without him, catching Neal staring at him, but with nothing to say. Sleeping was difficult, getting up, walking about, readying himself for the day ahead. He had looked in on Neal, finding him standing at the window, elbows on the sill and his chin in his hands, injuries old and new exposed in the moon light.

His team was in the conference room, deep in movement. He walked in and they stopped, staring at him.

"Burke, you're here. We're just going over the game plan for this afternoon..."

The strategy seemed simple, he was to be in the van, away from the action. Hughes had put himself on the line to even allow him to be there. He was grateful.

OOo

"Right, do we have eyes on the targets?"

"They've just entered the rear of the building. Counting four, time to move."

The action sprung from the various areas surrounding the warehouse, eight agents in total, then Peter, sitting watching. They had left him alone as they stormed the place. He had visuals and audio from the various vest cams. He heard the usual "FBI Freeze!" And saw the four males, scramble. No one thought they would come quietly, but as they ran in different directions, each agent moved. Out of the corner of the screen Peter saw the ring leader, the man who haunts him in his dreams, the man who put his friend through hell, who still is. No one seemed to notice, they were busy with the other three, some agents going to secure the evidence on the table, thing stolen from the gallery. No one even made a move towards the run away. Before Peter knew what was happening, he was out the van and running.


	18. Chapter 18

NEXT! This is becoming longer and longer each day! Lovin' writing it though! Hope you all are liking it too… almost 50 reviews! Thanks! Let me know what you think! xx

 **Chapter 18**

He knew he shouldn't be doing it. This was going against everything he had been ordered to do, everything he had promised to do. But in that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. All he knew was that he saw the man who had put them through this hell, and he was getting away.

Although the bruising of his torso was fading, it was still painful as he ran across the courtyard, ducking behind an outhouse. The area stretched out into a wide, flat, concrete surface, trees in at the far end. If Peter hadn't been so preoccupied he would have wondered what activities took place here. But all he could see was Him.

"FBI, Freeze!" His voice was loud in the empty area, but it had the intended effect. The guy stopped in his tracks, hands down by his side, slowly turning around. He smiled.

"Peter." He said it as though they were old friends, only now meeting after a long absence. It made Peter's stomach turn.

"Hands up, down on your knees now." They were close enough to each other to not have to shout, but far enough away that Peter couldn't make out what he had planned.

"Didn't think I'd see you here. Thought you'd be at home, with the wife and convict."

"Don't you dare talk about them." His mind honed in on the term used to describe Neal, flashing back to the man at home, and anger exploded within him. But laugher was the only response.

"Oh, come on agent. Just a little harmless banter. Takes the awkwardness out the situation, don't you think? Makes the mood a bit lighter," Peter had nothing to say, "Nothing? Really? Tut tut tut. I thought you cared about them?" An evil smile spread across his face. Peter ignored it.

"Hands up. Now."

"So serious. You need to lighten up. Would have thought our... activities would have made you realise that you aren't in control. I control everything. You... your wife... your CI. You try to protect them, but I control their every minute. How they sleep, how they feel, how others act around them. You want to make it better, but you can't. She'll adjust, eventually. She's back at work... yes? But him? Hummm... that will be tricky. We really did a number on him, enjoyed it too..." The smile remained throughout.

"Shut up! Just stop talking, you are under arrest for kidnapping, imprisonment, assault, burglary and whatever the hell else I can make stick to you." The gun held out in front of him was shaking, he knew his reaction was obvious. He felt his head swim and stomach roll. Where was the team? Why hadn't they found them yet? What had they found in the warehouse? What...

"I take it you got my pictures?"

It was as if time had stopped. Everything Peter was thinking faded out his head. He stared at him, gun suddenly steady. The hate burning within him. "You did get them, right? I mean the lighting wasn't very good, but I thought he looked alright. Wanted to keep a copy for myself, but didn't want anything to connect to me. Bet having them floating about would really turn it up a notch, am I right? He would be a mess... even more than he is now I mean... I would love to see the look on his face..."

Peter was overcome with emotion. The pictures now flashing through his head, the guilt and pain washing over him, he was so engrossed in his memories, he wasn't paying attention to the present. The guy moved his hand, gun appearing from nowhere. Then he shot.

Peter felt the pain, his arm on fire. His training fought back, his gun firing, hitting the person across from him centre mass, throwing him backwards. Then there was silence, distant shouting and footsteps drawing closer. Peter just stood there, staring at the ever-growing pool of blood in front of him. The team appeared, running past him, one agent kicking the gun away from the suspect, the other checking his pulse, shaking his head in response.

oOo

She hadn't gone to work. She was too nervous about her husband – her stupid husband – walking into the line of fire. For some secret reason no one would tell her. She was angry. Neal tried to say something to her, but she ignored him, leaving him to go up stair and stay there. She sat in front of the TV, nothing really to watch, but waiting for news, getting more nervous as time drew on.

Then the phone rang, it seemed loud in the empty room. She just looked at it.

He felt the pain. Not just from his back, but all over. Inside and out. Peter was going to die. That's all he could think. Peter was going to hunt them down because of him. It was his fault.

He was lying on the bed, on his side, back to the door. Tears were trying to escape his eyes, one breaking free, dropping down over the bridge of his nose and on to the pillow beneath him. He didn't move to wipe it. Right now, he didn't care. He just wanted everything to stop. The look of blame on El's face had almost done him in, leaving her alone was for the best.

The clock said 1.48. he had been watching it for almost two hours now, unmoving. Either Peter would come home or...

The phone rang, he let out a noise of dread, quickly sitting up. He felt his back protest, the area around his newly re-opened wound causing him to stop in pain. It kept ringing, she wasn't picking up. He made his way on to the landing and was at the top of the stairs before he heard her voice, slightly shaking.

"Hello... yes it's me," it was Jones, Peter was hurt. She felt the air leave her body. She was only vaguely aware of Neal slowly making his way down the stairs beside her. "Ok, ok... thank you. Yes I'll be right there. Ok, bye."

She put the phone down, letting out a breath, and grabbing her coat. She glanced up, Neal watching her. She stared at him. Any other time, she would have processed the messy hair, messy clothes and additional redness around the eyes, but she didn't.

"Peter's been shot." She made a move to leave, "I'm coming," he moved to go up the stairs, but she stopped him. "No. No, you stay here. I'll, I'll call when I know something."

She turned and left, leaving Neal alone again.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey. Let me know what you think! #review ;P**

Chapter 19

The hospital was crowded, loud and suffocating. The agent was walking behind her, he said she wasn't allowed to go alone. Jones had said to as at reception, but the crowd was so big they couldn't pin point where reception was.

"Elisabeth?" The voice was familiar, she turned to see Hughes struggle towards her. She smiled, happy to see him.

"Reese, hi. Where is he?"

"Upstairs," he looked at the agent, "I've got it from here, thank you," the guy left.

"Is he ok?"

"He's absolutely fine, bullet grazed his upper arm. There was a lot of blood at the scene," he was walking as they walked towards the elevator, "we weren't sure of the damage, but he never lost consciousness and the doctor says he's fine."

El let out a breath, a smile replacing the frown. They were in the small compartment, slowly raising through the building. She looked side-ways at her husbands' boss. He looked as though he had something else to say. "What is it Reese?"

"The guys we were after... we arrested them. They're the ones who..." His sentence faded out, she understood, "the guy in charge, a Carl Walters, he escaped, that's who Peter... took down." Her head snapped to look at him.

"Took down? He... He killed him?" Hughes looked at her, giving a small nod before looking straight ahead.

"Not before Walters fired his shot. It was self-defence."

She continued to look at him until they reached the 5th floor. The doors opened and they stepped out.

oOo

He lay in the bed, the constant beeping over his shoulder was annoying. The days' events spinning around him. The look on the guy – Carls' - face. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it. Heard him talk about how he had damaged Neal. Was he right? Was this it?

The door suddenly opened and he jumped, hearing the heart monitor speed up. The agent from outside was sitting against the opposite wall. He didn't notice though. All he saw was his wife quickly coming towards him. She threw herself at him on the bed, hugging him and sobbing. He stroked he head.

"Shh, shh... don't cry. I'm fine, everything is fine. Don't cry, it's fine." It seemed all he was doing these days was reassuring people. He looked up at his boss standing at the door. He was smiling.

"Burke, I'll leave you to it... I'll need to take a statement, but it'll keep. They think they'll keep you over night, just to make sure you're fine. So I'll here in the morning." Peter said his thanks and Hughes left.

"I was so worried. I knew it was a bad idea... you going after them. What were you thinking?" She was still crying, face in his shoulder. She couldn't believe what had happened. He had killed someone. Her husband.

"It's fine. Don't worry."

"Don't worry?!" Her head snapped up, she was angry, tears still on her cheeks, "How the hell can you tell me not to worry? All I've done is worry."

They looked at each other. Peter not sure how to answer.

oOo

Hughes couldn't go home. He shouldn't have put Peter in that position, he shouldn't have been there. He should be mad at his agent, but he was mad at himself. Why did he take him? Hell the guy shouldn't even be back at work. El was obviously still in shock, another one who shouldn't be at work. He didn't even know about Caffrey.

Walking up the short flight of stairs to his glass office. The White Collar floor was silent, the odd desk lamp still on to illuminate the area, other than that it was dark. Jones had called to say he had found a security camera when sweeping the buildings, he was sure it caught the altercation, as they were calling it. He said it was being delivered to the section chiefs' computer – the only copy. Hughes knew he wouldn't sleep until he saw it.

The screen jumped to life. He knew straight off that it was a high quality system. He watched Walters run in from the bottom left, then Peter, just stopping inside the frame – lucky. The visuals were clear, it even had audio. Good audio. He heard as Peter stuck to protocol, heard Walters respond with mocking remarks. He saw Peter tense, heard Walters talk about his wife. Neal. Hughes was about to turn it off at Walters taunting Peter with the mental state of his friend, but then he heard it. Pictures.

oOo

El had settled in for the night, in the recliner next to his bed. He watched her pretend to be comfortable. The nurse said she had to stay on the chair if she wanted to stay. His pain meds were waring off, not enough to cause pain, but enough to allow his mind to clear. He continued to think about what had happened, what he'd done. But he didn't regret it. His eyes started to close, that menacing voice in his head, talking about his wife, about...

"Neal!" He was sitting upright before he knew it. His heart rate picking up, arm sore and El almost jumping out her seat. "Where is he?"

"He's fine," she sounded exasperated, "he's at home."

"Why? Why didn't he come with you?"

"Because you need rest, you'll see him tomorrow. Just sleep, everything is fine."

oOo

He was still sitting on the fourth step, elbows on knees, chin in hands. The recent tears still glistening his cheeks, old ones dried in. His left knee was moving up and down. His back hurt, he felt stiff and sore. But he continued to watch the door, phone at his feet. El said she would call. How bad was it?


	20. Chapter 20

**Right, sorry it's late, I'm 21 now though! Getting more intense! Review and let me know what you think!**

Chapter 20

Hughes was up and out early the next morning. He planned to go to the hospital, but Burke had called to say he was being released just after seven, nice and early he said. Hughes could tell his agent was eager to get home. So instead, Hughes went to talk to Caffrey. The house was quiet, he nodded to the car of two agents as he passed, walking up to the door and knocking.

He woke to the loud noise of someone at the door. It scared him, causing him to fall down a step. His grunted in pain, screwing his eyes shut against it. Panting, he realised he was lying on the stairs. He couldn't remember how he had lain down, but he must have. His cheek hurt from being pressed against the carpet. Whoever it was knocked again. He struggled to get up, grabbing the banister, feeling his back and torso strain against the movement.

Pulling his hands through his hair – trying to offer some normality to his otherwise troubling appearance – he slowly opened the door, peering through the gap.

"Hughes," he was surprised, drawing the door back to be fully open, "hi, em... come in. What can I do for you?" The older man walked into the living room. Hughes could tell now more than the last time how tired and un-Neal he was, hair and clothes a mess. As he walked past the consultant his eye snapped to the back of his neck, the outskirts of a large purple bruise visible.

"Nothing, nothing. Just stopping in before Peter comes home." The mention of the agents' name made Neal snap his head around. He took a step towards the boss, now both being in the living room. "Home? He's... he's ok?"

Hughes faltered.

"Yes, the bullet just grazed his arm, he was kept overnight for observation, he should be home within the hour...you didn't know?" He asked, but the look on Neal's face said no. "Ok, well he's fine. I came to talk to you, clear something up."

Neal watched as Hughes walk towards and sat on the sofa. Relieve washing over him, he felt tears prick his eyes, quickly blinking them away. He walked to the arm chair, ready to hear what was going to be said.

"How are you? Shoulder ok?"

"Yeah, fine. What's up?" Hughes could tell that Neal wanted to cut to the chase.

"We arrested the men who... who took you three. Four suspects, one dead... Peter. It was self-defence, the other man – Carl Walter, the ring leader it seems – shot first, fortunately not a very good aim," Hughes glanced up, looking Neal in the eyes, at the dark blue and red staring back, "the whole thing was recorded, so no way of misunderstanding. But that has caused some new problems, I've watched it, no one else. Walters and Burke had... words before the shooting... and some pictures were mentioned," he stopped, trying to gauge Neal's reaction. His breath caught and nostrils flared. He knew something... damn.

Neal was trying to keep up, different emotions raging through him. Hearing Walters name send a jolt of fear through him. But hearing that Hughes knew there were pictures almost sent him off the edge. He and Peter had lied, it was going to come out. Peter would lose his job, he would go back to jail.

"Caffery," his voice changed from caring to interrogation mode so quick Neal was thrown, "I'm here to give you the opportunity to come clean. Whatever you have Peter hiding, it can't happen. Now I like you, you're a good member of the White Collar division and I feel for you, for what you've gone through. But listen to me, I won't sit back and watch my best agent go down, ok?"

Neal understood perfectly. He gave a small nod, causing Hughes to nod back, as though a deal had been made. That was all he needed. He stood, saying he would let himself out, leaving Neal alone.

oOo

Peter was ready to leave. He had hardly slept, watching El eventually drift off. The events of the day started to blur, now he thought of Neal. At home. Alone. And him in the hospital. It was the first night Neal would be alone. And he didn't like it.

His legs were over the side of the bed, joggers and hoodie on as the doctor was leaving, giving him the all clear, handing El a bottle of pain medication. He hopped off the bed, a small grimace of pain but nothing too major. Being careful, he placed his healthy arm around his wife's shoulders, giving her a peck on the cheek, as they walked to the elevator.

oOo

He just sat there. Unsure of what to do. It was a warning – a nice one – but a warning never the less. Peter had done so much for him, he had killed someone yesterday. Neal had been thinking of himself too much, this was his time to act. Without giving it too much thought, he started up the stairs.

Walking quickly to Peter and El's room, he knew if he stopped he would bottle it. He went straight for the safe. Getting in was easy, it was what would come next that was the hard part. He looked in, seeing the faces of the White Collar team stare up at him. The large brown envelope underneath looked as though someone was trying to forget about it. He picked up the top picture, the smiling faces, with him and Peter in the middle.

With shaking hands, he put it aside, picking out the envelope and taking it over to sit on the bed. Slowly he opened it. First was the letter, he remembered that Peter had made it into a crumpled ball, now though it was smoothed out. The four words standing out... 'Wish You Were Here.' He tilted his head back, breathing deep and swallowing, remembering, tears once again coming to his eyes. He focussed himself, this needed to be done. He reached his hand in, slowly pulling the pictures out. His breath caught at the back of his throat as he looked at himself.

The air was coming out in gasps, quick and strong. He felt his heart beat fast as he turned over to the next one, then the next, then the next, causing him to remember it all. He didn't hear the door open, the sound of footsteps. He was looking at the fifth one when El got to the door.

"What the hell are you doing in our room?"

If it were any other time, he would have smiled, but his body had began to shake and he had a sour taste in his mouth, he needed to get up. He looked at her, hands shaking, pictures now on the ground. He stood quickly striding to the en suit, only just lifting the toilet seat before he vomited in it, sitting on his heels next to it. His harsh breathing the only thing he could here, gagging, heaving and gasping.

Peter was at the foot of the stairs, popping a pain pill. He glanced around for Neal, not seeing him, afraid he had spent all day in bed again. Half way up the stairs he heard El question someone. She wasn't scared. More angry and confused. Neal? In their room? That didn't seem right. Then he heard heavy foot fall and the sound of someone being sick, so he took the steps two at a time.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you all soooo much for your responses… keep them coming. Here's the next one. Ps thanks Caseylf123 for the happy birthday ! ;P**

Chapter 21

He barged his way in to the bedroom. El now stood inside, looking worried and confused. But he didn't notice this, just the fallen pictures on the floor, some on the bed, along with the letter. His legs almost gave way. He was angry at Neal for doing this, he had told him not too. That feeling disappeared though when he heard another bout of vomiting coming from the bathroom. He could see in from his position at the door, Neal's back to him and head over the toilet.

He walked quickly up behind him, leaving El where she stood. He bent down to Neals' level, sitting on his heels too. His right hand went for his friends' back, in between the shoulder blades. He felt Neal flinch, almost falling over and a scared yell coming from his mouth. Peter flinched back, feeling another wave of guilt flood him. His friend breathed deep, sliding to his right, resting his painful back against the bath tub, his chest heaving, tears streaming. Peter didn't know what to do.

His emotions were all over the place, he remembered seeing the pictures and now was sitting across from Peter on the bathroom floor, unable to stop the tears from falling, the sobs escaping. He was aware of Peter sliding down beside him, putting a hand on his arm, causing him to turn his face away and covering it with his right hand. They sat there, his loud emotions showing themselves. Then Peter was speaking, and he got up.

Peter didn't know what to do, he had never seen Neal like this. He felt like crying too, seeing is friend in so much pain, inside and out. He sat beside him, feeling his body tremble when he placed his hand on his arm. He was about to stroke his hair when he looked back into the bedroom, seeing El sitting on the bed, holding the pictures.

"No. Put them down, you don't look at them."

She didn't know what to do. She was angry when she saw him there, confused at his reaction. Something odd was happening, had been for days. She was tired of it. Her husband pushed past. She saw Neal flinch, a stab of pity running through her. She looked down. Four things were on the floor. She bent down, picking them up and looking. The breath caught her throat, her eyes watered, hand going to her mouth. The next one made her sit down, glancing at the two on the bed and the four words written with them. Then Peter made her attention snap to the bathroom.

"I said," he got up, striding over, "don't look at them. Leave them alone." He was beside her now, grabbing them out of her hand with force and snatching the rest of the bed. He quickly stuck them in his bedside cabinet, slamming the drawer. He didn't even look at her. Sat back beside Neal. Not noticing when she silently stood and walked out the room.

He sat down, healthy arm going immediately around his friend. Neal started to pull away, but he offered resistance, pulling him closer. So he held his friend on his chest as he cried. As it was happening, he knew it was a long time coming.

oOo

By the time he had calmed down, Peter had managed to get him on his own bed, going into Neal's chest of drawers to get the sleeping pills given to him but never used. Normally his friend would have put up a fight, but not now. He took one without a word. Before it set in, Peter needed answers.

"Buddy, look at me," sad, distant blue eyes met his, "why did you look at the pictures?" He was hunched down so his face was in line with Neal's, hand going to stroke his hair.

"I have to... I have to turn them into the FBI, I have to protect you." His voice was drowsy.

"No you don't. Who... who told you that?" Neal looked up and into his eyes, Peter telling he didn't want to answer.

"There's a... a recording of what happened yesterday. Hughes came around this morning, said he knows about... about some pictures. Said I shouldn't take you down... or something like that. He said I had to come clean...he told me you were coming home... I thought you were dead, El didn't call... I thought you were..."

His eyes were drooping, speech getting harder to hear. Peter kept stroking his head as he drifted into sleep. He was stunned, Hughes had come to his house, without him knowing. Why? And if he knew about the pictures he should have asked him. He looked at the clock 8.52 am. He had been told not to go into work, everyone else not to go in until ten am, since they had been working so much.

He got up, leaving the room, looking back – Neal sleeping – and closing the door behind him. Into his bedroom he retrieved the pictures, trying not to look at them as he stuffed them into the envelope. Going down to the living room, he grabbed his coat. His eyes falling on El, sat silent on the sofa. She looked at him.

"He's asleep, make sure he's ok. I have to go out, I'll be back soon."

And without waiting for an answer, he left.


	22. Chapter 22

**Here we go, next chapter. Thanks for your reviews… keep them coming! xx**

Chapter 22

He had gone to the office after his chat with Caffrey. He'd told the team to come in later, Burke not to come at all. He was half way through his after action report when he heard the ping of the elevator. He glanced up quickly, about to look back at the screen when he realised it was Peter. He was surprised, not just at his presence but at the look of anger on his face as he stormed up to the office. He was talking, voice loud and menacing, before he had stepped into the room.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

The outburst was unexpected, Hughes looked mad at being spoken to that way. He went to speak but Peter didn't let him.

"You turn up to my house, you interrogate my CI – my friend – without even telling me? You make him feel as though this is his fault."

"No I didn't, I told him I knew something was being kept out of official reports. He may be ok with keeping information but you are an FBI agent – my agent – and I made sure he knew that I will not stand and watch you go down for something to do with this."

"How dare you. How dare you treat him like that. After everything he has been through... because of us. This case... if he wasn't with me he wouldn't have been involved. And you treat him like it's his fault. Well it isn't... it's mine."

The room was silent, Peter threw the envelope on the desk, turning around to look through the glass wall into the rest of the floor. His hands were on his hips and breathing heavy. Hughes stared at the envelope, not saying anything.

"This was delivered to my house the day after he left the hospital," he turned to face his boss, "go on... open it."

Hughes carefully took the envelope, suddenly scared of what he was going to find. He opened it, hand going in to take out the four worded letter. His brow furrowed, confused. He continued in, taking out the stack of pictures.

"Oh Jesus Christ. What the hell..." He looked away after the fourth. Looking up at Burke he saw the pain in his face as he looked across the desk at them too. He looked deflated. Like all the anger disappeared after seeing them. He rubbed his forehead, sitting down across from his boss, head in hands.

"He was going to declare it in his statement, and I told him not too," their eyes met, "this is my fault. I made him keep these a secret. I was angry and upset... still am I suppose. I couldn't protect him then, but I was determined to with this. He shouldn't have any more to deal with."

"I understand. I do. But keeping these can be dangerous. What if it was someone else who had seen that video. You have too hand these in. Your career..."

"I had to ask him if he'd been raped Reese," he let out a small laugh, looking down at the ground, causing Hughes to stop his lecture, "I Peter Burke had to ask Neal Caffrey if he had been... can you imagine what that felt like?" Hughes looked at him with the unasked question, "no, he wasn't. But he could have been. He was scared... terrified, he knew anything could have happened. That guy told him they would be sent to us... as a way to remember him. He thought they were going to kill him, leave him hanging there, exposed and vulnerable, to be found," saying it aloud pained him. His boss let out a breath, looking down. "My career... right now it doesn't matter."

"He was conscious?" Peter only nodded, looking away, "damn, how is he?"

"You mean after you came to my house and interrogated him?" He wanted his boss to know he was still mad, seeing a sad smile on his face as a response, "once you left he went up, opened my safe -" this made Hughes raise an eyebrow "- and took them. It was the first time... I didn't let him see them before. I... I promised no one would... I mean look at them," he gave another small chuckle, "guess that's something else I didn't manage."

"Don't do that..."

"We came home, he... he had a panic attack and threw up in the toilet," Hughes looked away feeling ashamed for causing it, "I had to drug him Reese... to get him calm enough to sleep. He was lost and scared. He told me he was bringing them to the FBI. To protect me..."

"After what I said."

"Yeah."

They both looked at each other. Neither knowing what to do. Hughes looked down at the envelope, pushing it across the table to Peter, tapping it twice, "Go home Peter. Take as much time as you need, make sure he's ok... and take these with you."

"But the surveillance...?"

"I'll... I'll delete the audio, it will still show what happened, but no one will hear it."

"Boss, you can't do that... he won't want you too."

"I know, but I want to. You're right, he doesn't deserve people seeing these, seeing him that way, and we need to protect him. As soon as this case is over though – destroy those... no one should have them... especially you. Tell Neal it's ok."

Peter nodded, small and subtle. He was thankful, grabbing the pictures, standing and waking out the door, just as the first team members were arriving.


	23. Chapter 23

**This story is longer than I meant it to be! Thanks for the reviews… keep 'em coming!**

Chapter 23

"So, go home. I'll sent an agent to the house to take your statement, but I'll probably be here 'til late." He glanced over at Peter as he finished talking to his wife. They were out the gallery, next to the car, about to enter when there was a screech of tyres. The black van sped straight past, they hardly gave it a second glance.

That was until he felt it. A gun at his back. Panic gripped him. The guy had come up behind him, from the gallery. They had still been in the building. His eyes snapped to Peter, saw him preoccupied with the gun on El, heard the guy ask for the anklet key, Peter saying no. The first punch was thrown, Peter doubling over, the guy behind El grabbing her, hand over her mouth. Neal struggled, turned and hit out. It wasn't going to do much good, but they had Peter down and he wasn't going without a fight. He felt the painful kicks to his torso, his lip bleeding. Then he was picked up, put on his feet, and all three directed into the black van...

He was floating. Feeling the room come into focus slowly. He was standing next to El, four guys standing opposite, one looking El up and down. He moved closer. Next he was in the chair, watching at El is hit, feeling the guilt and seeing the look of pain in Peter's eyes. The fear washing over him, knowing he was the expendable one. Peter needed El. He breathed in as Peter's fist hit his cheek...

The pain was excruciating. His wrists, elbows, shoulders. His face. But mostly his back, he felt the blood roll down it. Felt this underwear being pulled, the flash of the camera, the chill of the words to follow, imagining the pain Peter would be in to get the pictures once he was dead...

Hearing Peter's voice, the loose clothing over his body. His body screaming as he was moved from the cold floor. The way that nothing but pain was apparent until he woke with Peter standing over him, white walls and beeping machines. The way Peter took him home, seeing El, scared and still with black eye.

The look on Peter's face when he told him not to come to the office, and the look when he turned up. Feeling as though the world was caving in on him. Feeling alone in the house, the fear of being forced to the ground. It was closing in. Never had it been so intense, so real, so unescapable. But it was now. And as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't wake up.

oOo

She had sat there as long as possible. Those pictures... burning her brain. She had to do something. Lunch. The house was deadly quiet, she kept glancing up at the ceiling, wondering if she should be doing something more. Over an hour had past – lunch almost ready – when Peter walked through the door, looking tired and worn down.

He dumped his jacket on the sofa, slowly striding into the kitchen. She noticed he was tired, the worst she'd seen in days. He held his wounded arm carefully, wincing when he raised his hand to rub over his eyes. She looked at his right hand, hanging loosely at his side, large envelope being held there. They smiled at each other.

"I'm making lunch. I didn't know when you'd be back... I've called work, told them I was taking the day off. Are you ok?"

He sighed, landing heavily into the dinning chair, envelope now on the table. She stared at it.

"Yeah. I'm fine... I'm fine." She could tell he wasn't, making the cooking safe and sitting down at a right angle to him.

"Where did you go?"

"The office. I had to sort somethings out."

"Like what?" He looked up at her, seeing the curious look in her eyes. Not anger. He gave her a sad smile, remembering how he had snapped at her earlier.

"I'm sorry... about before, when I shouted at you. I didn't mean it... I wasn't thinking straight..."

"I know... it's ok. But it just proves... you need to tell me things. Everything... starting with... those," a strong look of disgust crossed her face as the pictures flashed through her head as she looked down at the envelope.

"I know," he looked at her, in the eyes. She saw him let down his barrier for the first time since it happened. He took in a deep breath, "I knew something was wrong, not quite right with him. What happened... I knew it would take time... but it was something more. He didn't want me to go with him to give his statement... I knew there then it had to be more. He was going to tell them... didn't want me to have to hear it..." His head hung, forehead resting on his thumbs, sticking up from his clasped hands. She moved closer, putting her hand on his arm. He looked at her, sad smile on his face.

"You had brought them in, that day. The day you went back to work. Once he left, I saw it. It was just sitting there... but something about it... I knew I needed to open it and see it all. Think I was in shock, felt sick. They did that to him El. They did that," tears were in his eyes, she looked down, "and he didn't tell me. Thought he couldn't, thought he shouldn't. For my sake. Knew I'd blame myself. Made him feel like he was alone with no one on his side. That is beyond torture. They strung him up and made sure he knew we would hear him scream, used his pain against him. He was conscious when they... when they did that to him," he quickly jabbed his finger on the envelope, the pent-up anger finally coming out, finally letting El in, "told him they would send us the photos as a way to remember him... he thought he was going to die, hanging there, being found like that..."

And that's when Peter Burke broke down.


	24. Chapter 24

**Ta da! I've been busy with uni so haven't managed to read over it in a while. I'm sorry for the confusion with not writing their names… I'll try and fix the next chapters… thanks for letting me know! Keep the reviews coming! xx**

Chapter 24

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he smelt something, and it was amazing. Something meat, he could tell, suddenly realising he was starving, unable to remember the last time he ate. He knew it was going to be tense, awkward and something he would rather miss completely. But he had prepared himself, he was ready. The sleep had been hard to endure, but it gave him more clarity.

El's back was to him, over at the oven. He smiled, trying to push his memories out his head. She must have sensed him there, because she quickly turned around. He could tell she was startled, but as soon as she saw it was him she smiled – letting out a laugh – and putting her hand on her chest.

"Oh my god, you scared me." But she was laughing, so he smiled back. Her gaze lingered on his face, "how are you feeling?"

"Yeah, better, thanks. Sorry about..."

"No. No apology needed. Now take this," she reached behind her and passed him a cold beer, "and go outside. Peter's there and you both should talk. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Dinner? What time is it?"

"Emm... almost seven. You were tired." She smiled, nodding to the door. He started to walk, trying to process the fact he had been asleep for almost ten hours. Outside he saw Peter standing with his back to him at the end of the decking.

"Hey."

His friend jumped slightly, turning to face Neal. He smiled, walking over and wrapping him in a fierce hug. All Neal could do was hug him back. It was unexpected.

After talking with El, Peter felt lighter and heavier at the same time. He was happy he told her, that she knew. But saying it aloud brought it all to the front of his mind. Made it real. He felt the guilt all over again. She had told him it wasn't his fault, and deep down he knew she was right, but it didn't make it hurt any less. He was lost in thought when he heard the small, uncharacteristic voice behind him. Seeing his friend he felt weak. Needed to know he was ok.

"Are you ok?" He pulled away, his right hand on the back of Neal's neck, looking him in the eyes.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. You?"

"Good. Better now you're up. Sit... dinner will be ready soon, I want to talk to you."

The garden was dark, lights dotted around. It was peaceful, Neal tilted his head back, feeling the chill in the air, shutting his eyes, breathing in, and letting it out. When he turned, Peter was watching him.

"Sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have been in there... should have listened to you."

"It's not your fault. I spoke to Reese, I told him what was going on. I... had to show him the pictures... I feel terrible, I told you I wouldn't... that I'd protect you, but he wasn't going to let it go so I just..."

"It's ok. Really... I was going to show him myself anyway. What'd he say?" He didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer. Having thought about it, he didn't want the pictures going public, not after seeing them. But he wasn't going to tell Peter.

"He said it was ok. Not going any further. That you've not to worry about it." He was confused.

"But what about the video, he said it told him about them in the first place?"

"Don't worry about that... he's going to fix it."

"How?" He was really looking at Peter now.

"Neal... it's nothing don't worry about it, he just wants you to be ok. It's fine." He could tell Peter didn't want to talk about it. He let it drop.

"So... he's dead then?" He was looking down at the bottle in his hands.

"Yeah. He is."

"Heard it was self-defence."

"Course."

"For a minute I was scared you had shot first."

"No. I told you I wouldn't. I... I knew you wouldn't want me too..."

"Thank you." They looked at each other before Neal looked away, "Can't believe how long I slept. Thought it had only been a few hours."

"See those pills work... they're helpful. Maybe they should be taken more often?"

Peter knew he hadn't been sleeping, but he had never brought it up. He saw Neal's smile falter, eyes look down before looking out to the garden. It didn't take more for him to realise he had said something wrong. "What?"

"Nothing... I just... they helped. I was in a bad way and they helped. But I... I can't take them again." He looked down.

"Why?" But they were interrupted by El at the door, "Come on you two."

oOo

Dinner was silent, with the odd attempt at conversation. One thing the couple noticed, Neal was hungry. He had thirds. Once they were sitting in the living room his eyes began to close slowly. The tv was on, but Peter wasn't watching, glancing over to his wife and friend on the sofa, him on the chair. By the time it was an ad break, he saw both asleep. He smiled.

Standing, he tapped El's arm, her waking and smiling, following his glance towards Neal. She carefully got up as Peter stepped closer, nudging Neal. His friend jumped away from him, his eyes wild. His reaction made El jump backwards as she walked past, and Peter snap his hand back.

oOo

When they were ready for bed, Peter went through to see Neal. He was standing at the chest of drawers, hands on the top and arms outstretched, looking at the small pill bottle, head hanging down.

"You can take another one you know. Won't hurt. I've read the label"

"Won't it?" He wasn't looking at him, no humour in his voice, "I don't want to." He sat back on the bed, looking straight ahead, "I couldn't wake up."

"What? That was kinda the point wasn't it?"

"No, I... I mean I _couldn't_ wake up," he looked up at Peter, "I wanted to, some points I needed too. I was stuck... reliving that day. I can't do it again. If anything... it's made everything else worse." Peter felt a weight in his chest.

"I didn't think of it like that, I'm sorry. It's ok. I'll leave you to decide." With a smile he turned and left.

oOo

He got in bed beside El, her looking at him.

"How is he?"

"I'm not sure... doesn't want to take the pills."

"Why? Thought they helped?"

"Yeh, but it meant he wasn't able to wake up. He was stuck in the memories... scared." He looked at her and she looked away, "Reese messaged me. He's coming around tomorrow to take my statement and talk to us. Get a plan. Know what we're doing." She nodded.

She was looking ahead, rubbing lotion into her hands, "Was he raped?" His head snapped to her. She was scared of the answer, voice small but strong.

"No, he wasn't." She looked at him, upset look on her face.

"You had to asked him that?"

"Yes. He doesn't deserve this El. None of it."

"Then we protect him. Nothing else to it."


End file.
